If you had enough savings to cover your life for 12 months and no need for paid work, how would you spend your time?

Most people draw a blank at first. Work is so tied to our identity that imagining life without it feels disorienting.

I’ll be upfront: I haven’t taken a year off myself. I’m in my mid-20s, working in a corporate role, and this question is just as much a thought exercise for me as it is for you. But the more I sit with it, the more it exposes what matters most, beyond paychecks and promotions.

And yes, this is a privileged thought experiment. Not everyone has the margin to even consider it. But for those of us who do, it can surface values and desires that are otherwise buried under routine.

So, here’s a framework that’s been helpful: three buckets—Stop, Start, Double Down.

STOP

What would you walk away from if money wasn’t the reason you showed up each day?

For me, the first thing would be constantly tracking my financial progress. Over the past two years, I worked hard to dig out of a negative net worth, pay off debt, and build a foundation for the future. That discipline changed my life. But it also created an attachment to numbers: checking balances, calculating progress, tying my sense of direction to the scoreboard. If I had a year off, I’d want to let go of that obsession and see who I am without constant proof that I’m “on track.”

I’d also step away from the politics of the workplace. I’m wired to be results-oriented: find the problem, solve it, improve it, move on. But work isn’t always that clean. There is posturing, positioning, and endless side conversations. If I had the space, I’d happily leave that behind and focus on what actually matters.

So, ask yourself: What would you stop doing if you didn’t need your job to justify it?

START

What’s been sitting in the back of your mind for years that you’d finally make space for?

For me, one of the first things would be writing more seriously. Over the past six months, I’ve been publishing weekly on Substack, and it’s become one of the most meaningful parts of my routine. If I had a year off, I’d use that space to go deeper, maybe even begin shaping the threads of a book.

I’d also travel with more intention. Earlier this year, I spent time living in Germany, and I got a taste of what it feels like to wander, to explore for no reason other than curiosity. That freedom is something I’d want to experience again, not as a quick escape but as a way of living.

And then there’s a dream my fiancée and I often talk about: opening a coffee shop and gym hybrid. A space built around fitness, community, and learning—a place where people could grow stronger together, whether that’s through workouts, conversations, or even classes on financial literacy. If I had a year, I’d want to start laying the groundwork for something like that.

So, ask yourself: What’s the idea, trip, or project you’ve been putting off that you’d finally start if time and money weren’t constraints?

DOUBLE DOWN

What already gives you energy that you’d pour more into if you weren’t stretched so thin?

For me, it’s fitness, exploring nature, writing, learning, and building community. These are the things that light me up already, even in the margins of a busy week. If I had the margin of a year off, I’d double down on them—more miles on the trail, more words on the page, more dinners with friends, more energy invested in connecting people.

The beauty of this bucket is that it doesn’t always require waiting for a year off. Sometimes doubling down simply means choosing to give more weight to the things that already align with your values today.

So, ask yourself: What are the practices, relationships, or passions that already give you life—and how could you double down on them now, not just someday?

The Script We’ve Been Given

When I was younger, I tied a lot of my identity to work and the prestige that came with it. But over time, I’ve realized something: a job is only one fraction of who you are. A whole life is built from relationships, health, creativity, community, and purpose. Work can support that life, but it can’t replace it.

So, here’s the question I’ll leave you with:

Because at the end of the day, the real measure isn’t your job title or your bank account. It’s whether you can put your head on the pillow at night knowing you actually lived the day, not just got through it.

See you next week.