Achilles got exactly what he wanted.
Then he said he’d rather be a broke farmhand.
I’ll give a quick recap if you haven’t picked up the Iliad in a minute.
First, there’s a scene in Troy where Achilles says the gods envy us because we’re mortal. We don’t get forever. The moments we have matter because we don’t get an unlimited supply of them.
Here’s Brad Pitt giving you the steamy version for those of us with short attention spans.
And it’s not just the gods doing the envying.
Some of the most financially successful people you know might be looking at somebody else and wishing they had his life.
He’s in shape. He’s cool without trying so hard. He has real friends, not just a network. He’s close with his family and actually does fun stuff instead of talking about what he’ll do when work slows down.
He seems to genuinely like his life.
We’re very quick to call somebody “more successful” because they have more money. But being healthy, happy, interesting, and connected to people who love you counts too.
And so does being fun to be around. That one doesn’t get nearly enough credit.
You can have money and all of that. This isn’t an argument for being broke.
But before you start sacrificing those things to get what somebody else has, consider this:
The guy whose money you want might want your life.
Which brings us back to Achilles and what he’s willing to trade.
He has a choice. Go home, live a long life, and eventually be forgotten. Or stay at Troy, die young, and be remembered forever.
He goes for glory.
And it works. Thousands of years later, we’re still talking about him. The guy has a fucking tendon named after him.
But in the Odyssey, Odysseus visits the underworld and sees Achilles. He thinks Achilles won. He was revered in life, and now he has power among the dead.
Achilles doesn’t see it that way. He tells him he’d rather be alive, working some poor guy’s land, than rule over all the dead.
He got the glory. He’d rather have his life back.
That’s the part I keep coming back to. He knew what he wanted. I’m not sure he understood what it would cost him.
And I wonder how often we do the same thing.
This is where I’m supposed to tell you money doesn’t matter and you should light a candle and be grateful for what you have.
I’m not that guy. I like nice things.
I am trying to ditch “sleep when you’re dead” as a business strategy, though.
I can be grateful for what I have and still want more. Those aren’t opposites.
But more what? And for what?
More money so one bad month doesn’t become a family emergency? So I can turn down a client I know is going to make my life miserable? So I can spend time with my kids without checking my phone every three minutes?
Yes. That kind of more makes sense to me.
And some of it is for nice things and having a good time. I’m not going to pretend every dollar I want is for the children.
But more because somebody else has a bigger company and now I feel behind?
That’s the part I want to be honest about.
Money matters. Security is not greed. Having options changes what you’re able to do.
You can leave a bad job. Fire a bad client. Take a worthwhile risk. Say no without doing math in your head first.
It’s a lot harder to stand your ground when you’re worried about making rent. Telling someone in that position to “just be grateful” isn’t especially useful.
But neither is telling them the answer is to keep chasing a bigger number forever. So here’s mine:
$300,000 a year coming in without me having to work for it.
Whether that comes from investments, a business that runs without me, or some combination. The point is that my ability to pay for my life doesn’t depend on me personally showing up to work every day.
I want to take care of my family, enjoy myself, and have room for things to go wrong without everything going to hell.
That’s my target for making work optional. It’s not the amount I need before I’m allowed to enjoy my life. Otherwise, I’ve managed to miss the entire point of my own email.
That’s what enough looks like to me today. It might change. But I want it to change because my life changed, not because I spent twenty minutes looking at somebody else’s.
Part of that is how I think about my kids.
I want them to be able to stand on their own. To take care of themselves. To walk away from people who don’t treat them right.
I want to help them get there. I also want to be around while they’re getting there, not spend their entire childhood working toward a version of “enough” that keeps getting more expensive.
Does reaching my number mean I’m done working? No.
I like building things. I like making things better. I like winning. None of that suddenly disappears because the bills are covered.
But past that point, I want to be honest about what I’m choosing. Maybe I love the work. Maybe I want to build something bigger. Maybe I just want the nicer thing.
Fine. I don’t need every ambition to be noble. I just don’t want to keep calling it a necessity when it’s a choice.
How much would actually be enough for you? And what are you no longer willing to give up to get there?
Hit reply. I’d genuinely like to know.
I’m not telling you not to go to Troy. Just make sure you actually want what you’re going there for, and understand what you’re leaving behind.
The glory lasts forever.
You don’t.
Be better.
Borzou