I woke up this morning in an interesting headspace—thinking about investments of all types. Not just money, but time, energy, attention, and emotional weight.
I was looking at a piece of art and thinking about its price. But then my mind went further. I started thinking about the time it took the artist to develop the idea. The cost of the mold. The materials. The paint. The tools. The jewelry. The practice. The mistakes. The learning curve. All of it.
When you really think about it, it doesn’t make sense to sell something if you can’t at least get your cost back—and sustainably get cost plus profit. Anything less eventually breaks you.
And the truth is, that same principle applies to every aspect of life.
If something is going to cost you more than it benefits you—more peace, more clarity, more health, more purpose—why would you keep doing it?
I learned this concept clearly over the last ten years. I’m not always sure I’ve applied it consistently. And I suspect I’m not alone in that.
Sometimes there are factors beyond the math. Emotion. Loyalty. Fear. Hope. Obligation. History. And those things can pull us into decisions that we already know will cost us more in the end.
Still, understanding cost has been a gift. Because it forces honesty. It forces discernment. It invites wisdom—not just in what we choose, but in what we decline.