Unapologetic Wealth

I remember hearing the song “Cat’s in the Cradle” by Harry Chapin when I was growing up. Even as a child, it made me feel uneasy, like there was a loss I couldn’t quite identify—if I wasn’t careful, I could lose something important in my own life as well.

As I grew older, I came to understand it more deeply.

It’s a story about a father who is too busy to spend time with his son. Always working, always focused on the future. Later, when there’s more time. Later, when things slow down. Later, when the money is right. But later never really comes. And by the time the son grows up, he is living out the same pattern—always busy, always chasing something just out of reach.

It’s a song about choices. About what we prioritize. Yes, on the surface, it is about money. But more than that, it is about what gets lost when we let money drive our decisions.

I’m not suggesting we throw caution to the wind or pretend money doesn’t matter. We all know the saying, “Money can’t buy happiness,” and while that is true, money can buy time, options, security, and ease—and those things matter.

What if we could loosen our grip just enough to regain control from the fear or pressure we associate with money? What if we could redefine wealth on our own terms—terms that reflect what truly matters?

We can.

We can redefine wealth to reflect not just what is earned and accumulated, but also what is felt and how we really want to live. We can create financial lives that promote connection, presence, and choice. And we can pass down values rooted in alignment.

This chapter is an invitation to look at wealth differently.

Not only for what you accumulate but also for what you experience.

And perhaps, to realize, you might already be building it.

Real Wealth

When most people hear the word wealth, they think of accumulation: a specific income, a particular retirement account balance, and a certain lifestyle. Wealth, in this traditional sense, is tied to visible markers of success such as homes, salaries, cars, and vacations. And for many women, especially those raised to be practical and cautious with money, it is also connected to the idea of enoughness—but only once it has been earned, saved, and proven.

These definitions are everywhere. But they are narrow. They are myopic. And for many, they are quietly exhausting.

What traditional measures of wealth often overlook are your time, your freedom, your health, and your peace of mind. It’s about how much space you have in your day to rest, create, care for others, or take care of yourself. The Dalai Lama summed up our backward pursuit of value in one sharp observation: We trade health for wealth, then spend that wealth trying to buy our health back. This serves as a reminder to prioritize what truly matters and to ensure it lasts.

Real wealth might be the ability to leave work early to attend your child’s school event, or to take a break to go to a yoga class, or to simply close your eyes for fifteen minutes in the middle of the day.

It might be the freedom to say no to a toxic client or friend, or to accept a job that pays less but allows you to set your own hours.

It might mean cooking a meal without rushing or spending an entire afternoon doing absolutely nothing without feeling guilty. And by doing these things, we are not lowering our standards. We are broadening our definition.

When wealth is defined by energy, ease, and alignment—not just income or status—it becomes more personal and authentic.

Perhaps success is not something you are meant to prove; rather, it is something you are meant to live.