Hey, remember Zen Lauren from last week, ditching the plan and enjoying it? 

SHE’S GONE.

There’s a lot happening right now in my world. This is long. Bear with me. 

Shortly after we started this trip, we got word that my aunt had suffered a stroke. At the time, Justin and I looked at each other and wondered, Do we keep going? Do we turn around? 

Ultimately, there wasn’t a lot we could do, so we decided to press on.

Tuck that away for a second. 

And then imagine, if you will, mama, that you have a Jeep. At one point, you spent $10,000 on this Jeep, which is not a small amount of money.

But the Jeep is old, and it keeps breaking. 

You keep taking it in to get fixed. This costs you more money. It also costs you time, stress, energy. 

It costs other things, too. You fight with your husband about the Jeep.

When you and your husband are upset and worried about the Jeep, you take out that frustration on your kids — you’re short with them. You don’t have the patience to read stories or to play board games. And even when you find yourself in the middle of mountain views, you have to really force yourself to stop for a second and appreciate them, because in the back of your head, you’re thinking, HOW THE HECK ARE WE GOING TO GET THE JEEP FIXED.

Imagine if you will, mama, that your child brings home a math worksheet.

Lauren has a Jeep that cost $10,000. She has already spent an additional $2,000 on Jeep repairs, plus lost several days of work and vacation time to deal with the Jeep, AND THE JEEP IS STILL BROKEN AND NEEDS ANOTHER FEW THOUSAND DOLLARS WORTH OF WORK.

At what point should Lauren abandon the Jeep and look for a different solution?

Obviously, this is a totally hypothetical situation that definitely did not happen in the first two weeks my family was on the road in our RV, flat-towing our Jeep behind us. 

And when you look at the problem logically, it becomes pretty clear that we made the right choice when we ultimately got rid of the Jeep, bought a new one, and moved on with our lives. 

But it’s not always easy to be logical. 

For example, imagine, if you will, mama, that you spent $30,000 or $50,000 or even $100,000 on a college degree. You took out loans, which you have been paying off. You go to work each day. The job costs you: wear and tear on your car and yourself, every day. Childcare costs. The emotional costs of being out of the house every day, worrying about your kids. Dealing with a toxic environment. Fighting with your spouse, and taking out your anger and frustration on your kids.

But you can’t see a way out, because you invested so much in your degree and in getting this job, and doing this work, that the idea of making a significant change is just incomprehensible. 

And there’s all the other stuff that’s happening in your life at the same time, because problems don’t just pause because it would be more convenient if you could focus on one thing at a time.

There’s actually a name for that feeling. It’s called the Sunk Cost Fallacy. You’ll keep throwing good money — and time, and energy, and all the rest of it — after bad, because you desperately want to recoup your initial investment. You’ll make terrible decisions that have an extremely negative affect on your overall happiness, health, and wealth just to avoid “losing” that first investment. 

We bought a new Jeep. Now, of course, there’s a decent amount of privilege here — and be sure you catch next week’s email where I delve into that — but let’s be clear on a couple of things:

We could do that because 

1. I built a business where there is no limit on how much money I can earn.
2. We decided to let go of the $10k we initially spent on the first Jeep, and to prioritize our happiness.

We continued to get updates on my aunt, and we didn’t know if we’d be able to meet up with my parents as planned. Fortunately, we did have an incredible time with them — something I’m so grateful for, for myself, and for my kids, and for my parents.

It was a strange experience, overwhelming joy at seeing my parents, and seeing my parents with my kids, mixed in with overwhelming sadness at what we knew was coming.

When word came that my aunt had passed away, the path forward was immediately clear. We rerouted our trip, and we’re driving four days straight to get to the funeral. 

There are some moments when you don’t have to wonder, “What’s the right thing to do?” You know. Even when it’s hard, or expensive, or not what you planned. 

There are some moments when you suddenly see the world clearly, and you know exactly what matters — and what doesn’t. 

If you’re sticking it out in a job you hate, is it because you desperately want to recoup the investment of your degree?

Are you letting the Sunk Cost Fallacy determine your fate?

Maybe it’s time to change things. 

And thus concludes today’s episodes of More Life Lessons From the Road: The Golden Family v. The Jeep

P.S. Did you know that I’m sharing the behind-the-scenes of our trip on Instagram! Come on over and check it out!