#R6: In the End, We Take Nothing

It was just an ordinary day when, out of nowhere, I found myself at a funeral.

It wasn’t someone I was particularly close to, but someone whose path had crossed mine more than once.

One of those acquaintances you exchange small talk with—maybe-we-should-grab-a-coffee-sometime kind of conversations. The occasional deep thought to help shape my own thinking, and plenty of lift chats in a neighbourhood block.

The room was full.

The air, thick. As you’d expect.

But what struck me wasn’t the silence, or the flowers, or even the tears.

It was a handwritten sign, propped up on the coffin, written in a steady hand:

“No one takes anything with them. Be humble, be grateful, and live your life to the fullest.”

I stood there. Reading it over and over. Thinking.

For a few moments, it felt like the message wasn’t for him. It was for me. For everyone in the room. For anyone who, like me, sometimes forgets what really matters.

Balance is hard.

Because let’s be honest: we often live as if we were eternal.

As if that 30-year forecast spreadsheet were gospel. As if an extra 0.3% in returns mattered more than laughing with friends, holding your partner tight, or spending time with your kids while they still want to.

And just to be clear—I’m not speaking from detachment.

I’m an investor. I get excited when I see a green heatmap. I won’t lie, solid profits give me a buzz too.

I enjoy discovering robust business models. But I also know there’s a dangerously thin line between using money as a tool to live better and turning life itself into an excuse to accumulate more.

I know it. And so do you. Even if, in my case, I’m finding it easier to stop caring so much about the accumulation part. Maybe I’m just getting closer to some kind of peace.

That day, walking out of the funeral, a question stuck with me:

What if we’re optimising the wrong side of the equation?

Think about it: we spend hours, days, years planning the future, preparing for the “what ifs”, building crisis-proof portfolios, backtesting against scenarios that may never happen again.

But so often, we do it from fear, not desire.

From scarcity, not abundance.

Driven by the need to have more, rather than to live better.

I’ve met investors with full financial freedom who still live as if they’re two paychecks away from disaster.

Brilliant people who won’t let themselves enjoy what they’ve built. And I don’t want to become one of them.

They accumulate properties, stocks, dividends… but not conversations, not moments, not peace.

It’s odd, isn’t it? We learn how to calculate net present value, but not the present value of our life choices.

We struggle to quantify the things that can’t be measured: time, calm, health. And yet, those are the things that truly matter.

Since that day, I’ve adopted a new habit.

Every time I go over my numbers, I ask myself a few other things too: — Am I also investing in the life I want to live? — Am I diversifying my time the way I diversify my portfolio? — Am I reinvesting my gains into experiences—and into myself?

Because yes, money matters. But it matters for something. It needs a purpose. It’s about having choices. For me, as I said some time ago, it’s about buying time. Choosing who I spend it with, where I spend it, and how I spend my days.

Not as an end in itself, but as a means to one.

And sometimes we forget that—in between newsletters, Instagram stories, and market moves.

That image at the funeral home reminded me: there’s no perfect portfolio if it doesn’t also make room for living.

So no, I’m not going to be in the rat race much longer.

That’s why I’ve got a plan. One I’ve discussed a thousand times with my dark friend, the night owl.

Because no return is worth a life on hold.

There’s no “magic number” that guarantees fulfilment if we’re not already living it.

So if you’ve made it this far, here’s my invitation:

Take a moment.

Yes, look at your portfolio—but also at your calendar, your memories, your priorities. Adjust your strategy if you need to—not just to grow wealth, but to live better.

Because just like no one’s coming to save us…

It’s also true that no one takes anything with them.

But we all leave something behind