I have two friends. One lives in the United States, the other lives in Ghana. Their circumstances, on paper, could not be more different. Yet, the rhythm of their daily lives tells a strikingly similar story.
My friend in the United States has 25 years remaining on his mortgage. Every month, about 60% of his income goes straight into paying it off. He works a standard five-day week, from 9 to 5. On top of that, he spends 1 hour commuting each way—2 hours in total—every single day. His version of the “American Dream” is to own his home outright, and he is on that path. But the finish line is a quarter of a century away.
My other friend lives in Ghana. He owns a three-bedroom house outright—no mortgage, no monthly repayment hanging over his head. That means none of his income is consumed by housing debt. Yet, he also works five days a week, 9 to 5. And like his counterpart in America, he spends over two hours each day stuck in traffic, travelling to and from work.
So here is what puzzles me: one man has 100% of his income available for saving, investing, or enjoying life. The other has only 40% available for the same. And yet, their daily struggles—the grinding work schedule, the soul-draining commute—are almost identical. Their quality of life, in terms of how they spend their waking hours, looks remarkably the same.
This forces a difficult question: why do we accept that struggle is universal and non-negotiable? Why do we assume that the “medicine” of long work hours and exhausting commutes is the only prescription, regardless of our financial condition or geographic location?
It seems to me that our problems do not determine the medicine we are given. Instead, a generic formula has been prescribed for everyone: work five days, commute for hours, chase a house, and repeat. Whether you are drowning in debt or completely debt‑free, the daily script remains unchanged. We rarely stop to ask whether this one‑size‑fits‑all lifestyle actually serves our unique needs, goals, or even our sanity.
Many of us live unexamined lives. We inherit a blueprint for “success” and follow it without question—the mortgage, the commute, the nine‑to‑five grind. We don’t stop to design a life that is intentional, tailored, and reflective of what we truly value. Instead, we end up as copies of the same person, just painted in slightly different colours.
Perhaps it is time to ask: are we living our own lives, or simply wearing someone else’s uniform? And if the medicine doesn’t fit the disease, why are we still swallowing it?
How many people do you personally know who have lived a life that deviates from this standard blueprint—where retirement doesn’t come in their 60s, and where the working formula looks genuinely different?
What is your personal blueprint for life and work? And is it any different from everyone else’s?
0 Comments