a different definition of resilience
we can adapt better when we create agency, connection, and space.
Well, this year is off to quite the start.
I’m not going to recount the headlines here (you either already know them, or you’re protecting your peace and I love that for you) but suffice it to say that we live in interesting times… for so many reasons.
I’m trying to figure out my own best path forward through this brave new world. One of the themes that comes up for me, again and again, is the theme of resilience - but maybe not the way we usually think about it.
Personally, I’ve always thought about resilience as the “bouncing back” from something bad. There’s truth to that side of the definition, but there’s a lot more to resilience to that.
Resilience also means flexibility, adaptability, elasticity. It’s less “intense physical therapy to recover,” and more “gentle stretching and mobility work to prepare.” More like a balloon gently inflating, less like a tennis ball bouncing off a wall (or a basketball… or really, any kind of ball except a football).
I want to focus on that gentler side of resilience today because I think we could all use a little extra gentleness at the moment.
How can we add flexibility, adaptability, and elasticity to our lives — financially and otherwise? My suggestion: by creating more agency, connection, and space in our lives.
This is theoretically simple, but not always easy. It involves slowing down, thinking more deeply, and asking ourselves interesting questions. In a world that heavily rewards the “move fast and break things” approach to success, this is no small feat. I know this probably sounds kind of woo-woo (and compared to, like, annual maximum retirement contributions or HYSA interest rates, it is). I promise you’ll get some more practical stuff after the break. I also promise that even the fuzzier side of these ideas can help you on the path to improving your sense of security (again, financially and otherwise).
The break
Club Fortuna (a.k.a. my paid community): Office Hours will be 1/31/24 at 11:30am ET.
We’re also at the very beginning of tax season, which is overwhelming and stressful for lots of us. Personally, I cope with this type of stress by spreadsheeting, so here is a free customizable template I made for you, inspired by my own personal tax checklist. Save your own copy as a Google sheet or download as an Excel file, and enjoy a slightly less frazzled tax season. (And if you have any fun obscure forms or documents that I forgot to include, hit me up!)
A tiny financial tip
You’ve probably heard plenty of people give the advice that you should make yourself wait 24 hours before making a discretionary purchase, right? Well, that’s pretty good advice, because it often means that you realize you don’t actually want the thing as much as you thought. But even if it’s something you’re sure you want (and if it’s not something that’s going to sell out or subject to a limited-time offer), there’s another reason: lots of these e-commerce sites will then send you a coupon for 10-20% off your cart. This has happened to me multiple times, and it’s quickly becoming a strategy. Fortune favors the patient in more ways than one 💰
And now… back to your regularly scheduled newsletter!
Small ways to facilitate more resilience in your life
There are some things you can do to help yourself reclaim agency, create connection, and add spaciousness to your life — whether it comes to your money, your mind, or your calendar. Here are some of the things that tend to help me.
Know what you own, what you owe, and where your money goes
I spent my early adulthood in a swirly cloud of financial uncertainty. I knew where most of my accounts were, and I occasionally checked on balances besides my checking account and primary credit card. (Very, very occasionally.) I had a general idea of when and how much went out the door in bills, and absolutely no idea how much my discretionary spending was (or really, what most of it was). A major component of my financial solvency was deploying three times in four years to a place where I could spend almost no money, which isn’t really a strategy that scales.
I thought it was more easygoing to live this way, but there were many times where I found myself stressed out because I’d forgotten about something important, or lacked financial confidence because I didn’t have a full picture of my financial life.
When I started managing my money differently at 30, I learned that having all my accounts in one place and building a financial plan every month brought me peace of mind and a sense of security that my money life had long been missing.
This doesn’t have to be fancy or all-consuming — you can do this with a notebook and pencil, a spreadsheet, or a money management app — but I think this framework is so important that pulling together a “big financial picture” is literally the first thing I do for all my clients. Being able to make decisions with my entire financial picture in mind — what I own, what I owe, and where it goes — was a game-changer. Creating financial agency allowed me to adapt to (and create) change from a position of authority, not reactivity, and I want that for everyone!
Speaking of, my favorite money management platform Monarch Money extended their 50% off New Year’s deal with code NEWYEAR2025. You can get the annual plan — normally $99.99 — for just $50 through January 31, and you get a one-week free trial to kick the tires.
(Not an affiliate link and no benefit to me at all, just a good deal on a thing I really like.)
Know what your must-haves actually are
First off, let’s be clear: I’m just as guilty as anyone else of labeling an intense “want” as a “need.”
But I also went to the Air Force Academy, where freshman year was often affectionately described as “take away all your human rights and give them back to you one by one as privileges.”
During my active duty career, I deployed to Iraq three times for a combined total of about 17 months.
I am also an “elder millennial,” and I know the siren song of dialup internet. I remember Napster.
I remember life before streaming services and social media and delivery and subscriptions for literally everything (increasingly as a substitute for ownership, and not usually in a way that helps us).
I also remember the early days of all that stuff before “enshittification” set in. You probably do too. (If you want a smart and detailed and slightly terrifying dive into the inevitable downward arc of virtually every tech platform, it’s worth clicking the link. It is emphatically not a coincidence that the piece is hosted on the Financial Times.)
This isn’t me flexing. This is just me saying that I have enough life experience to recognize the times when I went without stuff that’s a common feature of my life now. I know I could live without lots of it. Whether or not I have the willpower to resist the machine is, admittedly, an open question whose answer varies from day to day, but this knowledge does help me keep perspective.
I’m sure you have life experience of going without this stuff, too. Some things might truly feel essential to your life, and it’s okay if that’s the case.
But imagine with me for a moment that you’re offered the chance to go on an incredible adventure to follow one of your wildest dreams, and that the only requirement is that you have to travel very, very lightly.
It’s worth spending some time thinking about what you would literally and metaphorically throw in a bag and take with you, and what you might be willing to live without to pursue your joy. Knowing what you can let go of allows you to stay flexible and adaptable. It can prepare you to survive leaner seasons or crises, and it can also give you the breathing room to do more of what makes you happy, comfortable, or peaceful right now.
What comes with you, and what can you leave behind, even for just a little while? Can you pause anything and see if you miss it? What can you grow in the space that you create?
Cultivate genuine community
In December, I was in a pinch. My husband’s Friday evening work Christmas party had snuck up on us, and somehow neither of us had booked a babysitter.
I threw a few Hail Mary passes out to our fave sitters, but everyone was busy. We’d resigned ourselves to missing the party. Then, on one of those accursed social networks, I saw that a good friend of mine had posted her own Christmas party babysitting dilemma. She’d booked a sitter for Sunday, not realizing that she’d gotten the dates crossed and actually needed it for Saturday, and now she couldn’t find anyone for the night she needed.
I immediately called her and offered to help, and proposed a no-strings-attached trade: we could watch her kids Saturday regardless… but if she could help us out on Friday we’d be eternally grateful.
Lucky for me, she said yes to both. Everyone got to go to their parties, no one had to pay anyone, and our collective passel of kids was over the moon that they had two playdates in a row.
This might seem silly or obvious to you, but in the moment, I swear I felt like I’d cracked cold fusion.
This is one small, small way my life was made richer and easier because of real friendship with real people. I found out about my friend’s need on the internet, but the reason we could be there for each other is that we’ve been carpooling together this whole school year. We knew we could trust each other, and we knew we had each other’s backs, but it hadn’t occurred to either of us to *gasp* ask each other for help.
It’s great to be a useful and empowered adult with healthy boundaries, and our culture demonizes both doormats and moochers; Americans tend to glorify self-reliance as a peak virtue. However, excessive self-reliance is actually considered a trauma response. It’s not healthy to do it all yourself (not to mention actually impossible). But because of the messages we’ve received, we feel allergic to inconveniencing anyone, or we’re afraid of being inconvenienced, and before we know it we’re trying to white-knuckle our way through building Rome in a day. Offering and accepting help is deeply healthy and profoundly human. (And if you feel like you may have some serious issues with hyper-independence resulting from trauma, a skilled counselor can absolutely help.)
Inter-reliance through real connection is like a hammock, creating a springy net that can create more comfort and enrich our lives — financially and otherwise. If this idea appeals to you, think of ways you can practice some of that no-strings generosity and allow others to practice theirs on you. Starting small can lead to beautiful things. Where can you generously give, wisely ask, and gratefully receive? (A grateful hat-tip to Alexandra Franzen’s lovely Give, Ask, Receive technique.)
Protecting your peace is actually a thing
You are allowed to opt out of being a full-time resident of the internet information ecosystem. Yes, I realize you are reading this in your email or on the internet, but nevertheless — you do not have to stand in front of a firehose blasting the 35℉ water of terrible news directly at your soft, tender bits for multiple hours a day. You can, instead, choose to take occasional cold plunges into the harsh reality of the larger world. Our brains were never meant to know an entire globe’s worth of tragedies, and the sense of frozen fear that can result from information overload can also keep us from feeling capable of doing anything at all.
If you feel (as I sometimes do) that being an engaged, compassionate citizen involves staying very well-informed… *gently smacks your hand* stop that.
Most of the greatest human rights work that’s occurred in the world was carried out by people who did not have social media or digital all-access subscriptions or 24-hour news cycles. You are not built to lead the charge on every front.
You are one person. Everything can’t be a priority.
If you want to show up meaningfully as an engaged, compassionate citizen, pick a thing, and go deep, and allow the rest to exist without feeling responsible for it right now.
Or don’t pick a thing, and accept that you are not in a season of life where IRL showing up feels available to you. This does not need to be a source of shame; everything has a season, and you’ll find yours.
Either way, do your nervous system a favor. Let yourself ditch the belief that “allowing industries who profit off my attention, fear, and distress to keep me in a constant state of dysregulation” is a meaningful contribution to the struggle of those who are suffering.
A more peaceful, less-frozen mind is better prepared to respond to pretty much everything. And if protecting your peace by dialing down the noise allows you to pause or cancel some of your non-must-haves, or frees up more time for actual connection… look at that! You’ve got a twofer.
I’m still working on good strategies for this one, but I have appreciated the browser extension SocialFocus, the app/physical tool Brick, and the book Stolen Focus. And if you have any tools that have helped you in your journey out of the firehose, please (PLEASE.) send them my way!
Thanks for reading!
Everyone who makes it to the bottom of my newsletter is my favorite. If you enjoyed this, please tap the heart or drop a comment (or write back!). It might seem small to you, but those little acts of engagement help other people discover Fortuna Money (and really keep me going). 💖
If you’d like support in your journey towards a more resilient money life — or just wrangling your tricky money questions in general — I’m here to help. Just hop on my calendar for a session or a no-cost discovery call.
And finally, if you know someone who might enjoy reading this, please feel free to forward it. No one should have to money alone!






Love this thought experiment: "But imagine with me for a moment that you’re offered the chance to go on an incredible adventure to follow one of your wildest dreams, and that the only requirement is that you have to travel very, very lightly."
I love this! “you do not have to stand in front of a firehose blasting the 35℉ water of terrible news directly at your soft, tender bits for multiple hours a day.”
I just bought a new book that releases tomorrow on attention. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Have you read Jenny Odell’s book on How to Do Nothing?