S4 | 20: The #1 Decision To Make About Money
The money rule broke people ignore
How you earn shapes everything that follows.
The options you have. The voice you carry. The destiny you can realistically chase.
Money isn’t the only thing that matters, but it’s the first gatekeeper. It determines whether you can pay rent on time, keep the lights on, feed yourself and the people you love and still have something left to build tomorrow.
Most people drift into their income path with almost no thought. They pick a major because it sounds interesting. Take a job because a friend mentioned it. Start a side hustle because everyone on Twitter seems to be doing it.
They asked no hard questions. They consulted no real data. Just quiet hope that it’ll work out.
I’ve watched this play out too many times. I’ve lived parts of it myself.
Early on, I had to face a hard truth: the first job of money is to pay your bills. Everything else (freedom, impact, legacy) comes after that foundation is locked in.
If your chosen path can’t reliably do that basic job, then no matter how much you love it, it’s a hobby. Not a livelihood.
Passion is beautiful. It gives life color. But if it can’t cover rent, food, transport, emergencies—it’s not ready to carry the weight of survival.
And survival comes first.
I made peace with this years ago. I separated what I genuinely love from what I do to generate income. If the two ever overlap perfectly? That’s a blessing. But I refused to bet my stability on that overlap happening by chance.
This mindset didn’t come from nowhere.
I spent time studying patterns among families that consistently produce wealth across generations. One thing stood out: they rarely built primary income around “what feels good.” They built it around what creates economic power—what pays reliably, compounds over time, and opens doors.
I noticed this especially when I looked at Jewish families and their disproportionate representation among the world’s wealthiest. Decade after decade, they show up in the top ranks.
The common thread isn’t luck. It’s a deliberate choice.
They choose fields, businesses, and skills based on earning potential and long-term security, not momentary excitement. Passion is nurtured, yes. But usually, alongside or after financial strength is laid.
That observation changed how I think.
It forced me to get brutally honest with myself.
The Hidden Cost of Chasing Passion First
“Do what you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life.”
Sounds inspiring.
Shows up on graduation cards and motivational posters.
But in practice, it quietly devastated more dreams than it fulfilled.
Most people who followed that advice went straight into years of financial stress.
Someone trained for years to become a personal trainer because he loved fitness. Poured everything into it—certifications, early mornings, constant learning. Today he barely covers the basics. Some months he wonders if he made a terrible mistake.
The passion is still there. But buried under constant money worries.
Another person left a stable corporate job to pursue graphic design full-time. Talented. Clients loved the work. But the industry is crowded, rates are low unless you’re at the absolute top, and burnout arrived faster than income.
After several years in, they’re exhausted and financially stuck. Can’t pivot easily because savings never materialized.
These aren’t rare stories.
Almost everyone knows at least one version.
Here’s what rarely gets discussed:
When you turn your passion into your only source of income, it often stops feeling like a passion.
What once brought pure joy now carries the weight of bills, deadlines, client demands, and the fear of falling behind.
Suddenly, the thing you loved becomes the thing you resent on tough days.
Some musicians once played for the love of it, but grew to dread gigs because rent depends on them. Writers who adored storytelling start measuring every word by how much it might pay. Artists who painted for joy find themselves chasing trends just to sell pieces.
The passion doesn’t always die. But it changes.
It becomes work, and not always the rewarding kind.
This isn’t to say no one should ever monetize what they love. Some people do it successfully. But they’re the exception. And even among the exceptions, most built a financial runway first (savings, stable income, low expenses) before leaping.
A Better Order
There’s a different approach that preserves both your peace and your passions.
Start with income that reliably covers (and eventually exceeds) your needs. Choose a path that pays well enough to remove money stress from the equation.
Once that foundation exists, you gain something priceless: options.
With bills handled, you can pursue what you love without forcing it to carry impossible weight. You can write on weekends without needing every piece to sell. You can train clients for the joy of it, not because rent is due next week. You can create art, volunteer, travel, or start experimental projects knowing that failure won’t threaten your survival.
Money earned this way becomes a tool for freedom rather than a constant source of anxiety.
Some people live this way and swear by it.
One engineer works in tech, earns comfortably, invests consistently, and spends evenings producing music he never tries to monetize heavily. The music stays pure joy because it doesn’t have to pay his mortgage.
Another one in finance supports her family while painting on the side. Her exhibitions are growing, but even if they never become a full income, her life remains secure.
This order—money first, passion protected—also creates better conditions for eventual overlap.
When you’re not desperate, you make clearer decisions. You can take calculated risks. You can invest in skills, tools, and networks. You can wait for the right opportunities instead of grabbing whatever pays today.
The Critical Questions You Must Ask
Most bad career decisions come from never asking the right questions upfront.
We drift until reality forces the questions on us, usually at the worst possible moment.
I started asking myself three questions years ago. They’ve saved me from several wrong turns.
1. How much do I actually want to earn (or be worth )in the coming years and decades?
Get specific.
Write down real numbers: the monthly income you need today, the amount you want flowing in five years, the net worth you aim for by retirement.
Be honest about the lifestyle you want and what it truly costs. This number becomes your destination. Everything else gets evaluated against it.
2. Does this skill, industry, or niche have the proven capacity to deliver that level of wealth for someone with my starting point?
Look at real data. Not feelings.
What do top performers in this field actually earn?
What do average performers earn?
What do newcomers earn after five or ten years of effort?
Are there structural limits (oversaturation, low pricing power, geographic constraints) that cap income for most people?
Don’t romanticise fields where only the top 1% thrive while everyone else struggles.
Choose arenas where solid, consistent performance is rewarded with solid, consistent pay.
3. What will it actually take to become a true master in this path—and am I willing to do it?
Mastery is where real money lives. Beginners rarely get paid what they’re worth. Only experts command premium rates, equity, ownership, or influence.
So map the path honestly: the years required, the deliberate practice, the failures you’ll endure, the networks you must build, the sacrifices along the way.
If the cost feels too high, that’s valuable information. Better to know now than ten years in.
These questions aren’t comfortable. They strip away illusions.
But they also replace confusion with direction.
Answer them honestly, and you’ll start moving differently. You’ll spot dead-end paths earlier. You’ll invest your time and energy where returns are realistic. You’ll build momentum instead of spinning in place.
Ignore them, and you risk years of hard work aimed in the wrong direction—hustling fiercely, yet still broke or burned out.
Choosing Wisely
How you make your money isn’t a side detail.
It’s the foundation everything else rests on.
You can chase passion at the expense of stability and hope for the best. Or you can secure stability first, then let passion breathe freely beside it.
One path often leads to anxiety, resentment, and limited options.
The other leads to peace, preserved joy, and the real freedom to build something lasting.
I chose the second path. I never regretted it.
The passions I love are still with me—stronger, actually, because they’re not burdened with survival duties. And the income path I chose has opened doors I never imagined.
You still have time to choose.
Get clear about your numbers. Study fields with real economic power. Map the road to mastery.
Choose wisely.
Your future self will thank you.
This Is Your Arena
Day 20 Of 100 Hours Of Personal Growth
PS: I teach personal growth for passion. After 10 years, I’ve slowly placing monetary value on my intellectual property. But I have a full-fledged career that takes care of my expenses regardless. Allow your passion to grow without pressure.
No days off. Stay strong.
— Multidimensionally yours, JG
When you turn your passion into your ONLY source of income, it often STOPS feeling like a PASSION.
Thank you Sir JG for this eye opening insight. I need to share this with my siblings and friends.
Don’t romanticise fields where only the top 1% thrive while everyone else struggles. This reminds me a whole lot of the passion I had for a particular field of studies growing up as a child but couldn't make it to study that course in school. I'm still hoping to go for that passion but I have to make money first. With money, I can get my passion become a reality but my passion might not be a able to solve my pressing needs at the moment.