Enjoy Life While Pursuing FIRE: Spend Intentionally

No, FIRE isn’t a monk retreat, money joy and progress can coexist

No, FIRE isn’t a monk retreat, money joy and progress can coexist. I’ve heard the same line for years: “If I go for FIRE, I’m going to hate my life for a decade.” Hard no. The trade isn’t joy vs. wealth; it’s mindless spending vs. intentional spending. You’re not signing up for austerity camp, you’re designing a lifestyle that buys back time, optionality, and lower stress. And the kicker: that starts now, not when a spreadsheet flashes some magic number.

Quick 2025 context so we’re speaking the same language: markets have stayed choppy since inflation spiked, U.S. CPI hit 9.1% year-over-year in June 2022 (BLS data). Cash carried unusually high yields all through 2023-2024-3-month Treasury bills hovered around ~5% for long stretches, and high-yield savings paid north of 4%, which changed the calculus for emergency funds and short-term goals. Costs still sting: housing is the big one, travel isn’t cheap in peak windows, and childcare remains a budget-bender. But that doesn’t preclude progress. It just means your plan has to be designed for this reality, not the 2015 world we all kind of miss.

Here’s the reframing that actually works in real life (I’ve used it with clients and, frankly, on my own household budget): FIRE is lifestyle design. You move the dollars into what you truly value, you strip out the drag, and you compound the difference. Sounds simple; it’s not always easy. But it’s way less miserable than the internet makes it out to be.

FIRE is about buying time, weekday flexibility, work you actually want to do, and less financial cortisol. You can get pieces of that now with smarter cash flow, not just later with a giant nest egg.

What you’ll walk away with here:

• Reframe FIRE as lifestyle design, not austerity. We’ll sketch a plan that funds the life you like today while accelerating savings. No monk robes.
• Identify 1-3 non‑negotiable joys you’ll keep spending on, concerts, kids’ activities, a monthly dinner out, whatever keeps you sane. We lock those in first.
• Cut friction, not fun. We kill subscription creep, card rewards left on the table, overpriced insurance, and dumb fees, so delight stays and waste goes.
• Use higher baseline prices as an input, not a roadblock. We’ll set targets that reflect 2025 costs instead of pretending it’s 2019, and we’ll use current cash yields for near-term goals.

And, yes, I get the pushback, “But my rent jumped, flights are pricier, and daycare is… well, daycare.” Same. This is why the plan tilts toward intentional: automatic savings skims, side buckets for big purchases, and a realistic glidepath. When cash was paying ~5% in 2023-2024, I parked more short-term funds there and stopped apologizing for it. Today, yields aren’t zero, so your emergency fund can still earn real money while you aim for that first 6-12 months of expenses. Small wins matter.

Where this gets a little nerdy (and I’ll try not to overcook it): we’ll frame “how-to-enjoy-life-while-pursuing-fire” around marginal utility. Keep the spending that delivers outsized happiness per dollar, cut the stuff that doesn’t move the needle, and route the savings into a priority stack, high-interest debt, emergency fund, tax-advantaged accounts, then taxable investing. If that sounded too technical, ignore the label and keep the idea.

One last note, and I’m a bit fired up here: you don’t need perfect market timing to make this work. Since 2022, volatility has been the norm, not the exception. That’s fine. We’ll focus on what you can actually control, savings rate, fees, tax placement, and guardrails that keep your joys intact. The end result is less stress now and a faster path to optionality later this year and beyond.

Spend on joy, cut the noise: a 3-bucket cashflow that actually works

Here’s the system I use with clients (and, yes, my own money): three buckets, Essentials, Joy, and Future. It’s boring in the best way because it removes the willpower tax, which is the sneaky drag that shows up every Sunday night when you swear you’ll “make up for it next month” and then… you don’t. Rates are easing a bit this year, markets are choppy as usual, so control what you can: cashflow rules and automated rails.

Mechanics, fast and clean:

• Automate paychecks into three accounts: split direct deposit by percent (not flat dollars) so raises auto-scale. Example: 55% to Essentials (rent/mortgage, utilities, insurance, groceries, transit), 20% to Joy (the stuff that makes life actually feel like life), 25% to Future (investing + buffers). Your mix will vary, but the structure stays.
• Pre‑fund recurring joy before anything else: sports league fees, concert tickets, babysitting, monthly dinners with friends. If it’s on the calendar and brings real happiness-per-dollar, it deserves a line item. When Joy is funded upfront, you stop backsliding into guilt and you don’t amputate the fun when work gets busy.
• Quarterly audit bills, subscriptions, insurance, utilities. Kill, downgrade, or renegotiate. A 2022 C+R Research survey found people guessed they spent $86/month on subscriptions but actually shelled out about $219/month. That delta is your silent tax. Even cutting a third of the zombie stuff is real money.
• Use a rolling 3-6 month expense calendar for travel, gifts, car service, annual memberships, and those school/activity fees that love to ambush you. Park the monthly slice in Future:Buffers, then pay cash when it hits. There’s a reason credit card balances creep, timing gaps, not recklessness. For context, the Fed reported average credit card APRs around 22% in 2024; avoiding that interest is an instant, risk-free return.

On the cash side: keep Essentials on autopay from a checking account. Move Joy to a separate debit card so you feel the pace without judgment. Then sweep everything else to Future: first your emergency buffer (3-6 months), then tax-advantaged accounts, then taxable investing. As of October 2025, plenty of high‑yield savings accounts still pay roughly 4-5% APY, even with cuts trickling in this year, so your near-term cash isn’t dead money while it waits for that property tax bill or the inevitable brake job.

Philosophy checkpoint, intellectual humility. I don’t know the path of rates next quarter, neither does that loud guy on TV. This is why we automate the boring stuff and protect the joy on purpose. Markets have been jumpy since 2022, and they’re still jumpy; the system works either way because it addresses behavior, not forecasts.

One personal note: I used to cram “fun” into the leftovers bucket, shockingly, there were no leftovers. When I flipped it and pre‑funded a pickup hoops league + babysitting twice a month, my savings rate went up because I stopped stress-spending on random takeout and late-night gadget shopping. It’s unglamorous, but it sticks.

Quarterly checklist (15 minutes, seriously):

1. Skim statements for unused subs. Cancel or pause. If you can’t remember the last time you used it, you didn’t.
2. Shop insurance quotes or ask your current carrier for re‑rate after any life changes; switching can save low double-digits percent in plenty of cases, though your mileage, credit, and location matter a ton.
3. Call utilities for promo pricing or move to a time‑of‑use plan if it fits your habits.
4. Update your 3-6 month expense calendar, add upcoming travel, holidays (Q4 gift season is now), medical appointments, car maintenance. Pre-fund the monthly slice.

Rule of thumb: Joy is mandatory, not optional. Fund it first, automate the rest, and let Future catch the surplus. If the month goes sideways, because life, your guardrails still held.

Invest like you want a life: simple portfolio, real cash yields, flexible rules

Keep the portfolio boring. Keep the spending rules smart. That combo gets you compounding and sleep-at-night risk, especially with Q4 noise blaring (holidays, election chatter, rate-cut guessing). The core is the same as it’s been for decades: a global stock index fund plus a high‑quality bond fund. Two funds, maybe three, extremely low cost. If you want numbers: a total world stock index paired with an intermediate-term investment‑grade bond index gets most households 95% of the way there. No factor sprinkles required unless you can clearly explain your reason in two sentences.

• Costs matter a lot: An extra 0.50% in fees on $500,000 is $2,500 a year, before taxes. That’s a flight and a long weekend somewhere sunny. Don’t give it away.
• Rebalance gently: Once or twice a year or when your target weights drift 5-10%. No hero trades. Headlines aren’t a signal; they’re a distraction.

Cash is a real asset again. Short‑term Treasuries and HYSAs were near 5% in 2023-2024, finally paying you something for patience. This year, yields have eased off the peak but remain attractive compared with the 2010s. Treat cash like a working line item: not zero, not everything. Create an intentional cash sleeve for near‑term spends (3-12 months): travel you already booked, property taxes, insurance premiums, Q4 gifting, deductible-level medical. If it’s a bill with a date, it belongs in cash or T‑Bills. Over-explaining here because it matters: cash is the thing you won’t lose sleep over when markets wobble, which is the whole point. Ok, point made.

Spending guardrails beat rigid rules. The famous 4% rule came from Bill Bengen’s 1994 study. Morningstar suggested 3.3% in 2021 and 3.8% in 2023 for new retirees based on market valuations and yield assumptions. Translation: use a range, not a cliff. Start somewhere between ~3.5-4%, then tune it to markets and your actual spending.

• Variable rules (Guyton-style): Give yourself a raise after good years (say + inflation, or +5% cap), trim a bit after bad years (−5% to −10% cap), and set a floor so you’re not cutting to the bone. It’s flexible math for a human life.
• Capital preservation guardrail: If the portfolio drops 20% from its high, pause the raise. If it recovers, resume. Simple signals beat stressed Sundays.

Tax location still matters. Generally: stocks in taxable (preferential long‑term rates, foreign tax credits), bonds in tax‑advantaged (ordinary income sheltered). If your bond fund is munis, then they can belong in taxable. And if your 401(k) is your only big account, you hold the mix there, don’t overcomplicate. Revisit once a year; laws change, and your balances shift.

One personal note: I ran a family “raise or hold” meeting this summer after a strong quarter, took a 2% raise instead of 4% because college bills are looming. No heroics, just math and a calendar. That’s the vibe. Keep the portfolio plain, keep cash ready for the next six-twelve months, and let the guardrails do the steering when headlines get loud.

Bottom line: Boring portfolio, intentional cash, flexible withdrawals. Compounding does the heavy lifting; you just have to not trip it up.

FIRE, but friendlier: Coast, Barista, and Partial FI that work in 2025

You don’t need an on/off switch. Partial FI is the dimmer, good enough light to live now while compounding does the heavy lifting. Markets have been choppy this year but still functional: cash yields near 5%, stocks grinding, housing… sticky. Point is, you have options that don’t require quitting or white‑knuckling a 70% savings rate.

Coast FI: front‑load the savings, then glide. The math is simple: if your invested balance today can grow to your target retirement number without new contributions, you’ve “coasted.” Formula‑ish: Target at retirement / (1+r)^(years) = your Coast number. If you need $1.2M at 60, you’re 35, and you assume ~7% nominal (about 4% real), your Coast number is roughly $1.2M / (1.07^25) ≈ $219k. Hit that, and you can throttle contributions way down and move to a lower‑stress role. Not perfect, nothing is, but it’s directionally right. Remember that glidepath chart I mentioned earlier? Same idea: front‑load risk and effort while time is your friend.

Barista FI: cover the essentials with part‑time or flexible work, let the portfolio cover the rest later. The real kicker in 2025 is healthcare. Employer plans remain a huge benefit. Even a 20-25 hour schedule can keep you eligible at some firms during open enrollment this fall; that’s worth real money. COBRA for a family easily runs four figures per month, and ACA premiums can swing widely by zip code and subsidy phaseouts. If you can keep employer coverage while earning enough to pay housing, groceries, and utilities, your sequence‑of‑returns risk drops a lot. And your Sunday scaries drop even more.

Geoarbitrage‑lite: you don’t have to move states to win. Sometimes moving 20 minutes inland or a couple train stops out trims rent by 10-20%. With remote/hybrid still common this year, that trade is real. Run after‑tax, after‑rent math: what’s your take‑home minus new rent, commuting, and any childcare changes? Be careful with state moves; a 0% state income tax can be offset by higher property insurance or housing. I’ve seen people chase 2% lower taxes and lose it all in a pricier roof and car insurance. Tiny thing, big swing.

Sabbatical test: do a 3-6 month pilot on a reduced schedule. Track two numbers weekly: spending and a simple happiness score (1-10). If expenses fall less than you think, adjust. If your happiness jumps from a 5 to an 8, that’s data. I did a two‑month half‑speed stretch earlier this year, botched my first spreadsheet, of course, and the family asked why we hadn’t done it sooner. Not a controlled trial, but honest feedback beats perfectionism.

Cash buffers and T‑bills: use boring money to bridge transitions. As of October 2025, 3-6 month T‑bills yield around 5% (U.S. Treasury auction results). Parking 6-12 months of expenses there gives you permission to experiment without panic selling stocks. That matters when markets wobble the week you tell your boss you’re going 60%, because they always do.

A quick reality anchor: long‑run equity returns in the U.S. have been about 6.5% above inflation since 1900 (Credit Suisse Global Investment Returns Yearbook 2024). You don’t need hero numbers; you need time in the market and fewer forced withdrawals. Partial FI is designed for exactly that.

• Coast FI move: estimate your Coast number, confirm your asset mix still fits the plan, then negotiate a lighter role or fewer hours.
• Barista FI move: target roles with healthcare eligibility at 20-30 hours; audit the total comp, not just the hourly rate.
• Geo‑lite move: compare after‑tax pay and after‑rent costs across neighborhoods; include insurance and utilities.
• Sabbatical move: calendar 12 weeks, pre‑fund with a T‑bill ladder, track spend + happiness, then decide if you extend.

Bottom line: Partial FI is permission to right‑size work now. Keep a fat cash buffer, use T‑bills while rates are high, and let compounding, quietly, stubbornly, do the rest. I lean toward intellectual humility here: test small, review quarterly, adjust when the data (and your gut) disagree.

Taxes, healthcare, and the stuff that blows up plans (if you ignore it)

This is the unsexy part that keeps FIRE from becoming a paperwork horror show. The rules move, your life moves, and the IRS absolutely moves, just not always in the direction you want. Treat these as guardrails you check every year, especially now in Q4 when open enrollment and year‑end tax moves collide.

• ACA subsidies hinge on MAGI bands. The premium cap of about 8.5% of household income remains in place through 2025 under current law, and the old 400%‑of‑FPL cliff is still suspended. For 2025 plan year, marketplaces are using the 2024 FPL: single $15,060, family of four $31,200 (48 states/DC). Bunch capital gains or Roth conversions in the years you’ll blow past a band; in the years you want subsidies, harvest losses and keep MAGI tight. Yes, that means scheduling rebalancing with a tax lens, not just a risk lens.
• Roth conversions in low‑income years. With RMD age at 73, emptying some pre‑tax balance early can cut future RMDs and Medicare IRMAA headaches. Model the brackets first. 2025 ordinary brackets didn’t shrink, and the 12%/22% break is a common sweet spot for part‑timers. Convert up to the top of your target bracket, stop, repeat next year. I’ve overconverted before; paying 32% now to avoid 22% later is…not smart.
• Max the current limits. Don’t leave the match on the table. 2025 limits: 401(k)/403(b) employee deferral $23,500 (catch‑up $7,500 at 50+), IRA $7,500 (catch‑up $1,000), and HSA $4,300 single/$8,550 family (catch‑up $1,000). If your employer offers after‑tax 401(k) and in‑plan Roth rollovers, that “mega backdoor” can top off savings even when IRAs phase out.
• HSAs are still the unicorn. Triple tax‑advantaged. Invest the balance like a retirement account, pay current medical costs from cash, and hoard receipts. You can reimburse yourself later, years later, tax‑free. I keep a shared drive folder with PDFs snapped from my phone. Clunky, but it works.
• I Bonds still have a job. The 2022 window hit a 9.62% composite rate (May-Oct 2022). We’re nowhere near that now; current composite rates this year have hovered around the mid‑4% range. For inflation‑protected cash buckets and a 12‑month lockup you can live with, they’re still useful. Ladder them alongside T‑bills, which, yes, are still yielding around 5% give or take after drifting down from last year’s highs.
• Insurance audit. One accident can nuke a decade of savings. Baseline kit: term life to cover dependents/needs years, own‑occ disability if you work with your brain, and a $1-2M umbrella policy sitting on top of auto/home. Re‑shop every 2-3 years. I’ve seen umbrella quotes swing 30% for identical coverage.
• Social Security math. The SSA announced a 3.2% COLA for 2024 and again announced a 3.2% COLA for 2025 (in Oct 2024). Bake those into your glidepath. Delaying to 70 still boosts your check by about 8% per year after full retirement age. Coordinate with Roth conversions; higher future benefits can crowd your brackets.

One last thing I forgot to mention earlier when I talked about withdrawal order, sequence risk gets nastier when taxes and healthcare spike at the same time. Keep a 12-24 month cash buffer, use QSBS and muni income where it actually fits, and calendar a Q4 check‑in: MAGI estimate, brackets, IRMAA, ACA, and the boring forms. You’ll sleep better, promise.

TL;DR: Plan income around ACA bands, model Roth conversions before you click, hit 2025 limits and the employer match, treat HSAs like stealth IRAs, use I Bonds/T‑bills for the cash sleeve, carry proper insurance, and use SSA’s actual COLAs in your plan. Guardrails first, thrills second.

Make it feel good now: joy-per-dollar tactics you’ll actually keep

Make it feel good now: joy‑per‑dollar tactics you’ll actually keep

Enjoying the journey isn’t fluff. It’s compliance. If it feels good, you’ll stick with it when markets get weird (hello, 2025’s “softish” inflation prints and choppy small caps) and when life throws curveballs. So we engineer the plan to be emotionally sustainable, not just numerically elegant.

1) Annual “big rocks” list: pick 2-4 memories you’re buying this year and budget for them first. I literally write them at the top of the spending plan: “Dad’s 70th dinner,” “Yosemite with the kids,” “friend reunion in Austin,” that sort of thing. Price them out like projects, transport, lodging, food, tickets, babysitter, whatever, and put real dollars next to each. Then lock them in early. If the market sells off 12% in Q2, you won’t cancel your whole life. You pre‑funded the important stuff. Small thing: put the deposits in a separate sub‑account so you can’t “accidentally” repurpose them when SPX has a red week.

2) Travel smart (because travel inflation has cooled from 2022 peaks but dynamic pricing is still annoying). Off‑peak shoulder seasons routinely cut airfare and lodging 20-40% versus peak weeks, Europe in April/May and September/October, national parks after Labor Day, Caribbean right after Thanksgiving and before Christmas week. On points: use airline miles for flights and pay cash for hotels more often than not. Typical redemption values I still see in 2025 are ~1.2-1.5 cents per airline mile on many mainline carriers, while big‑chain hotel points often pencil closer to ~0.5-0.8 cents per point unless you snag a sweet spot. That spread matters. And house swaps? Underused. If you arrange a direct swap, you can cut lodging costs by about 60-90% versus retail nightly rates, yeah, a big range, but even at the low end it’s massive. We did a swap in Santa Fe, was it 2019? I’m pretty sure it was 2019, and our out‑of‑pocket for a week was basically groceries and a cleaning fee.

3) Upgrade cheap. Spend where marginal joy per dollar is high. A better mattress that fixes your back (returns compound daily), a gym you’ll actually go to, the Thursday dinner with friends that keeps you sane. Skip status goods that stop making you happier after week two. The rule I use is dumb‑simple: if it improves daily quality or deep relationships, it’s probably a buy. If it’s a logo tax, pass.

4) Create a “fun floor”. If income dips, bonus light, freelance dry spell, or you throttle work during a bear market, protect a minimum $X/month for joy. Even $150-$300 can keep the wheels on psychologically: a date, a game with the kids, a class. That buffer stops the “all austerity, then binge” cycle that wrecks budget consistency. Yes, it’s behavioral finance dressed up as pizza night, and it works.

5) Rule‑of‑thumb raises. When your net worth hits a new milestone, give yourself a small lifestyle bump (say 5-10%). It’s like dividends from discipline. Hit $250k, add $100/month to your travel bucket. Hit $500k, upgrade the mattress or the hobby gear. Hit $1M, maybe it’s business class one‑way on the longest flight of the year. You pace lifestyle with balance sheet progress, which keeps lifestyle creep earned and reversible if markets retrace.

Quick reality check on 2025 conditions: airfare is off the 2022 spike, but still volatile around holidays; hotels are softening in several urban markets as supply caught up, yet destination pricing can be sticky on weekends; points programs keep “dynamic” pricing, no surprise there, so check cash vs points math every time. If you’re using a travel card, focus on flexible currencies and transfer partners, then do the cents‑per‑point math in a quick spreadsheet, nothing fancy.

Okay, I’m actually excited about this part, because it’s the part people keep doing year after year. Build the big‑rocks list now, put dates on the calendar, book shoulder season flights with miles where the math checks out, set a fun floor in your budget tool, and write yourself permission to take a 5-10% raise at the next net worth milestone. It sounds small, but it’s the difference between a plan that survives 2025’s choppy tape and one that gets abandoned the second VIX jumps 10 points.

Bottom line: joy‑per‑dollar is a risk‑management tool. If you like the plan, you’ll keep the plan. Guardrails first, yes, but give yourself a few bright spots to steer toward every single quarter.

Okay, what now? A 30-day sprint to enjoy life and speed up FI

Okay, what now? A 30‑day sprint to enjoy life and speed up FI

You don’t need a new personality, you need a clean setup and a few calendar commitments. Markets are still choppy this quarter, rates are off their 2023 peak but cash and T‑Bills still pay real money, so use that tailwind while it lasts. Here’s the 30‑day plan I actually run with clients (and yeah, with my own messy accounts too):

1. Open and label three accounts: Essentials, Joy, Future. Route your next paycheck on purpose: Essentials 60-70% (rent/mortgage, food, insurance, minimum debt), Joy 5-10% (experiences you’ll actually remember), Future 20-35% (401(k)/IRA/brokerage). Rename them in your app so you see the intent every time, labels change behavior, sounds silly, works anyway.
2. Schedule two calls this week. (a) Insurance broker: confirm umbrella coverage limits and long‑term disability. Umbrella is cheap peace of mind, typical pricing is roughly $150-$300 per $1M per year based on industry quotes; raise liability to match your assets plus future earnings. (b) HR/benefits: get your exact 401(k) match formula and HSA eligibility. Many plans match 3-5%, if you’re leaving any match unclaimed in Q4, fix it now. Ask for the plan’s expense ratios and default fund; you want cheap index options, not a 1% target date that eats your compounding.
3. Move idle cash to a high‑yield bucket or short T‑Bills. For near‑term spends (next 3-12 months), use an FDIC‑insured high‑yield savings or 3-6 month Treasuries; earlier this year T‑Bills printed ~5% annualized and are still hovering in the mid‑4s in Q4 2025. If you’re eyeing a sabbatical, hold 6-12 months of core expenses in that safe bucket. Autopilot the sweep so checking never bloats.
4. Run a 20‑minute FIRE calc. Do two passes: Base at 4% and Conservative at 3.5%. The classic Trinity Study (original 1998, later updates) showed a 4% withdrawal had ~95%+ success over 30‑year periods for a 50/50 portfolio, good anchor, not a guarantee. Now add variable guardrails: if portfolio falls to a 20% guardrail, cut next year’s withdrawal by 10%; if it rises to the upper guardrail, give yourself a 10% raise, with a hard floor for essentials so life stays livable. Put the numbers in a one‑page sheet, no macro wizardry, just clarity.
5. Pick one Partial FI move for Q1 next year. Choose one: four‑day weeks, fully remote, or a 60-80% schedule. Draft a one‑page business case that ties to output, not hours. Offer handoff coverage and KPIs. If your employer is in budget‑lock mode, pitch it as retention and burnout risk management, managers understand attrition costs better than vibe arguments.
6. Book one joy anchor in the next 90 days, and pre‑fund it. Put money into the Joy account and buy the thing: a long weekend, concert series tickets, whatever gives you energy. If it’s not on the calendar, it usually doesn’t happen. I literally name mine “December Snow Trip” so I stop pretending I’ll decide later.
7. Set a quarterly money date (recurring). 60-90 minutes. Checklist: (1) Portfolio check (drift and fees), (2) Expense audit (kill the dead subscriptions), (3) Tax bracket review (room for Roth conversions, TLH, or HSA top‑off), (4) Happiness score 1-10, keep what moved the score, cut what didn’t. Rinse, repeat next quarter.

Small note on the market backdrop because it matters for behavior: cash and short Treasuries still pay, equities have been a bit whippy this year with leadership narrowing and then broadening again, and headlines change faster than your goals. That’s why the three‑bucket structure plus guardrails works, you get stability to stay invested and freedom to enjoy life now, not five spreadsheets later.

Do the boring setup once, automate it, sprinkle in planned joy. If you like the plan, you’ll keep the plan, and that’s the compounding that actually counts.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q: How do I set up a FIRE plan that doesn’t feel miserable?

A: Start with 1-3 non‑negotiables (yes to weekly date night or travel, no to subscriptions you forgot you had). Then automate a 20-35% savings rate: 401(k) up to match, Roth IRA (or backdoor), HSA if eligible, then taxable index funds. Keep 3-6 months’ expenses in a high‑yield savings or a 3-6 month T‑bill ladder. Review cash flow monthly, rebalance annually. You’re improve, not self‑punishing.

Q: What’s the difference between mindless spending and intentional spending?

A: Mindless is swiping because you’re bored or it’s habit. Intentional is pre‑deciding: “I spend on A, not B.” Practically: set a weekly fun‑money number, kill autopay junk, and route savings the day after payday. If it’s not on your short list (family time, fitness, travel, whatever), it gets starved. Same dollars, just pointed at things you actually care about.

Q: Is it better to throw extra at my mortgage or max my Roth/401(k) while yields are still decent?

A: Stack the priorities. 1) Grab your 401(k) match (free money). 2) Kill high‑interest debt first (anything ~7%+ after‑tax). 3) Max tax shelters, Roth IRA/backdoor Roth, HSA, then push 401(k) higher. After that, compare your fixed mortgage rate vs expected after‑tax returns. If you locked a sub‑4% pre‑2022 rate, investing usually wins. If you’re sitting near 7%+, prepayments start looking good, especially if you crave risk reduction. Keep 3-6 months in HYSA/T‑bills regardless.

Q: Should I worry about inflation or sequence risk wrecking my FIRE, and how do I build for 2025’s reality?

A: Short answer: yes, plan for it, don’t panic about it. Inflation bit hard (U.S. CPI peaked at 9.1% year‑over‑year in June 2022 per BLS), and markets stayed choppy afterward. The fix is structure and flexibility.

Here’s a playbook I use with clients (and frankly in my own household):

• Buckets: 1) Cash & near‑cash for 12-24 months of living costs (HYSA or a rolling 3-12 month T‑bill ladder). 2) Bonds for the next 3-5 years of spending (short/intermediate Treasuries, TIPS). 3) Global stock index funds for growth. This reduces “forced selling” after a bad year, sequence risk hates cash buffers.
• Guardrails for withdrawals: Start around 3.5-4.0% and adjust. If portfolio drops 20%, trim withdrawals 5-10%. If it rallies, give yourself a cost‑of‑living raise. Research like Guyton‑Klinger shows rules‑based tweaks keep plans alive in ugly markets.
• Inflation armor: TIPS in tax‑advantaged accounts, room for periodic price jumps in your budget, and a willingness to delay big discretionary spends in high‑inflation spikes. I‑Bonds helped a lot in 2022-2023; today they’re fine but not a silver bullet.
• Tax strategy (quiet superpower): Front the bonds in tax‑deferred, stocks in taxable for better tax rates; harvest losses in bad years; use Roth conversions in low‑income years pre‑Medicare; watch ACA subsidy cliffs if you’re retiring before 65.
• Income flexibility: A few hours of consulting or part‑time can offset a rough market year. Sounds small, but an extra $10-20k in a drawdown year can save 2-3x that in long‑term portfolio value.
• Rebalance annually, or when allocations drift 5-10%. Keep fees and taxes low; they’re guaranteed drags, unlike market guesses.

Bottom line: build buffers, automate rules, and give yourself knobs to turn. That’s how you make FIRE durable in 2025, without living like a monk.

@article{enjoy-life-while-pursuing-fire-spend-intentionally,
    title   = {Enjoy Life While Pursuing FIRE: Spend Intentionally},
    author  = {Beeri Sparks},
    year    = {2025},
    journal = {Bankpointe},
    url     = {https://bankpointe.com/articles/enjoy-life-while-fire/}
}