Here’s a number that should stop you mid-scroll: American adults just posted the lowest financial literacy score in a decade. Not a bad quarter. Not a rough year. The lowest in ten years of tracking, according to the TIAA Institute’s 2026 study — with the share of adults in the “very low knowledge” category climbing from 20% to 25% since 2017.

For many people, the math has quietly changed. You may be earning the same income, or even a little more, but it no longer supports the same lifestyle it used to. Groceries cost more. Insurance costs more. Property taxes, utilities, restaurants, travel, repairs, healthcare, gifts, subscriptions, and basic life all seem to have crept up.

One question I’ve been thinking about for much of my life is this: What would I do even if I weren’t paid to do it?

Not because money doesn’t matter. It does. But because there is something powerful about discovering the work, service, or contribution that feels deeply aligned with who you are.

Over the past year, I’ve talked a lot about predictability—and how when it disappears, so does confidence. Recently, that idea became very real for me.

Last year, I was actually looking forward to a couple of surgeries—both knees. Not exactly something most people get excited about, but for me, it meant more mobility, less pain, and a better quality of life. It felt like a step forward.

Lately I’ve been hearing a recurring theme from clients: “We make good money, but it still feels like we’re just trying to stay afloat.”

That sentiment mirrors a recent discussion sparked by an article in the New Hampshire Bulletin titled “How Much Does It Cost to Stop Being Poor in America?” The article questions whether the official poverty line actually reflects what it costs to live a stable, functioning life in modern America.

I attended a retirement seminar for public school teachers and employees. There were 35 people in the room, all there because they care about their future and want to feel secure. At one point, the instructor asked a simple question: “Who here has a plan or budget, tracks expenses, and proactively manages their money?” Only two hands went up—my wife’s and mine. That moment stuck with me, not because it was shocking, but because it was so revealing, even in a room full of professionals planning for retirement, most people still don’t have a basic system for staying aware of where their money goes.