The other day I had problems with the old van I drive to and from work. A friend saw me struggling to get it started in my employer’s parking lot, and the next day said, “Man, I felt bad watching try to get the old van running. When do you think you’ll be able to buy a nicer car?”

That afternoon, while standing outside waiting on a ride home, and feeling a tad bit sorry for myself, it occurred to me that living frugal often gives people the wrong perception of your financial health. When others see you making frugal choices, they automatically assume you are doing it because you have to, not because you want to. Sure, I could go out and sign the next five years away with a new car loan, but I choose not to.

Over the last year or two there has been a growing trend towards frugality, and many people in the media are anxious to see if it lasts. Unfortunately, I don’t think it will, for one main reason.

Most Americans, myself included for far too much of my life, are overly concerned with what other people think of them. I mentioned the ability to ignore what others think of us briefly earlier this week, as part of my seven steps to financial independence, and Neal mentioned comparing ourselves to others in yesterday’s guest post. Living a frugal lifestyle means living within our means – our means, not within a fairytale lifestyle depicted in the media as the norm.

As we go through our day making little sacrifices here and there, voluntarily passing on opportunities to spend a lot of money, people not living a frugal lifestyle will naturally assume we can’t afford to keep up with them. That’s fine; you can’t control their thoughts and assumptions.

The fact is, most frugal people are in much better financial positions than those feeling sorry for them. The classic example is Sam Walton, who right up until his death drove an old pickup truck around Bentonville, Arkansas. Those who didn’t recognize him probably thought he was just an average guy not able to afford a “nicer car.” We know he could have easily carved $60,000 out of his billions for a shiny new Mercedes, but he didn’t need one. His old truck suited him just fine.

Unfortunately, most of us don’t think that way. So the thought of living frugal frightens many egos out there into thinking they may not appear as successful, or wealthy, if they shop at thrift stores, drive old cars, cut their own hair, clip coupons, and make their own homemade laundry detergent.

Just remember my take on a line from Dave Ramsey:  If people are laughing at you, or feeling sorry for you, you are probably doing something right when it comes to your financial plan.

Today I’m beginning the slow process of returning to a normal schedule. I do have plenty to say, it’s sitting down at the keyboard that’s the hard part. Thanks to all the condolences passed along from readers and fellow bloggers – really meant a lot to our family.

Those who have lost a loved one know the various phases of grieving we tend to go through. I’m still in the “numb” stage that seemed to last up to and immediately following the Memorial Service last Friday. Now I’m feeling a deep sadness, and am really missing my mom. I talked to or saw her every single day for 32 years.

While the feelings of losing Mom a week ago are still raw, I know she would be telling me to buckle down and get busy. I wish more of her tenacity rubbed off on me!

Over the weekend I had nervous energy and decided to grab a few crates down from the attic, and out of the garage, to look for opportunities to de-clutter. While looking through old pictures and documents I found something interesting – a pay stub dated June 1998. The hourly rate: $5.50.

That doesn’t tell the whole story. I only had 21 hours that pay period, and about 20 hours from my other part-time job. I was newly married, and without benefits, because neither part-time job would hire me full-time. My wife relocated to marry me, so she was unemployed for the first few months we were married.

When I did finally land a job earning $18,700 a year with benefits we thought we were rich. My wife was working for $6.00 an hour in a medical office. Combined, we didn’t earn $30,000 a year, but we lived like we earned $60,000.

Fast forward a decade. Now the situation is reversed. We are making a conscious effort to live on much less than we earn. Instead of living like we earn twice as much, soon we’ll be living on half of my income alone. What’s different? Our priorities.

Back then we got caught in the trap of keeping up with the Jones, and the media, and even what we thought to be an ideal lifestyle. I spent money to impress the new in-laws, to “provide” for our first child, and to buy a “safe” vehicle since I was now a family man.

Looking back, spending money didn’t impress my in-laws, it only made me look pretentious. And $100 toys meant nothing to my baby daughter, but a little floor time in the evenings helping her learn to crawl, watching her giggle and coo meant the world to her.

Hindsight really is 20/20. There are no such things as a financial mulligan, so I try not to spend too much time obsessing over the mistakes I made in my 20’s. Instead, I admit my mistakes, promise to never repeat them, and look to the future with optimism. And there is much to be excited about.

By the end of this year my wife and I will be debt free for the first time in our marriage. We are already car debt free, another first-time achievement as a couple. We’re also planning to have our fully-funded emergency fund in place by Christmas.

For years I’ve closed my eyes and day dreamed about how it must feel not to owe anyone a dime. How it must feel to know several thousand dollars are in the bank ready to handle your next emergency. How it must feel to budget your next paycheck and have money left after paying bills.

Dave Ramsey describes this feeling as “financial peace,” and I think that is a great description. It will definitely be a weight lifted off my spirit. For too long I toiled at bad jobs, worked through vacations, and put up with more crap than I should have because I had debt. Never again.

I sure am glad I saved that pay stub. It reminded me of all I have to be thankful for today, and how far we’ve come. Instead of being stashed away in the attic it now has a permanent spot on my bulletin board, serving as a reminder of the turnaround that’s possible when you really put your mind to it.

I grew up in a middle class family. I was the only child to a stay-at-home mom and a dad who worked as a millright. Money was tight most of the time, but I don’t recall feeling deprived. When we couldn’t afford to eat out, we improvised with whatever was in the pantry.  Bored? My mom would help me craft my own toys, teach me to crosstitch or invent my own games.

Now that I’m married and have three boys of my own, I’m trying hard to share those values I learned as a child. Our income is greater than that of mine or my husband’s families growing up. Our kids are very fortunate in that they haven’t ever experienced real hardship. They don’t always understand how other families live. I do what I can to teach them to enjoy frugality as a lifestyle choice. They help me bake cookies and clip coupons. We shop garage sales and thrift stores. We try to help others who are less fortunate when we can.

Of course, I will admit there are times when it is very hard to avoid raising a materialistic child.

One of the biggest challenges I’ve faced in teaching my sons about frugality is that my parents, who were once the epitome of thrift, now lavish our boys with gifts and meals out. They’ve worked hard to establish their retirement nest egg and love living near their grandchildren. It’s hard to teach the boys about money and values when well-intentioned grandparents give them whatever they want.

My four-year old has a bike with training wheels that I bought for him at a garage sale for $5. He would ride that bike for hours. My parents suggested that he needed a new bike.  I told them that the old bike worked well and that my son loved it.  They decided to buy him a brand new bike anyway.

And in one of my proudest parenting moments, my son thanked my parents for the new expensive bike, hopped back on his old bike and said, “I like the old one better.”

I was proud that my son thanked my parents for the new bike, and even more proud that he loved his old secondhand bike more. In a small way, I feel I was able to teach him that new and expensive isn’t always better.

It’s been a few weeks now, and he’s riding the new bike now. He tells me that he’s going to pass this bike down along with his secondhand bike to his twin brothers when they’re old enough.

And that’s fine with me.

It may be hard for you to see why root canal procedures and dentist games are something I’d write about.  Dental hygiene is, after all, a very private affair.

Maybe you’re thinking that I’m going to take “DO IT YOURSELF” articles to a new level.

Are you hoping I’m going to tell you how to save a fortune on dental care? “Just use a pair of pliers and a bottle of whisky next time you feel that twinge between tooth number 2 and number 3.”  No, that’s not where I’m going.

I learned (the very hard way) that successfully navigating a dental emergency is exactly the same as navigating a financial challenge.

Let me tell about the experience I had just a few days ago and how I think it can help you overcome your own painful challenges (dental…financial….whatever) if you ever have one.

The Set Up

On the Thursday night right before the long Labor Day Weekend I started feeling a sharp pain on the upper right side of my mouth.  I didn’t think much of it at the time even though I had never experienced that kind of pain before.  I just popped 3 Advil and felt relieved almost immediately.  All was well with the world.

I didn’t feel uncomfortable again until Friday night.  But the pain came back with a vengeance.  Even though the Advil remedied the situation, the hurt returned every few hours.  I couldn’t sleep or eat.  I was miserable.

If you’ve never experienced tooth pain, count yourself lucky.  I am sure that women who have given birth suffer much worse but for me, this was unbearable.

I was praying to the “dental deities” for relief.  I promised I’d never eat a piece of chocolate again if only the pain would be taken away.

The hurt found me & I found religion. But the pain waves kept rolling in.

My Go-To Solution Fails

I called my dentist on Friday night.  While I didn’t expect him to be there, I did expect to get some emergency service or number.

I was disappointed.

All I got was a recording telling me the office was closed.  Can you imagine how afraid I felt at that point?

I had no idea what to do or who to call.  I was in a real emergency situation and felt completely alone and isolated.

While I was indeed very angry with my (now former) dentist, I didn’t waste energy thinking about him.  I remained completely focused on finding a solution to my problem.

Reality Sets In

I started to understand that my odds of finding a dentist in town over the holiday were slim.  I felt doomed and truly frightened.

Considered All the Alternatives and Took Action

After calling a number of dentists in my area, I decided I’d wait it out until Tuesday – 72 hours of pure pain.

But before my final gasp of resignation, I thought about my friend Ed.

You know who Ed is, don’t you?

He’s Ed the Dentist.

At that point, Ed was my new favorite human being on the planet.  How could I have forgotten about Ed?

I immediately called him and told him about my problem.  Before you could say “canker sore” he took me down to his office, opened it up, took some x-rays and developed an action plan to solve my problem. Ed’s a saint.

The Pilgrim Gets Schooled

Ed asked me a bit about the care I’d received in the past and explained that part of my problem was that I was seeing the wrong kind of dentist.  My general dentist gave me a few root canal treatments and even though he had the qualifications to do it, he didn’t have the expertise.  Ed told me that I should have had that work done by a specialist who only does root canals in order to get the best possible outcome.

Of course, I could have had the problems I was having at the moment regardless of who I saw several years prior.  But Ed’s point was, why take the chance?

Ed explained the differences between oral surgeons, endodontists and general dentists.  While each can do the others’ jobs, specialists are better.  That all made sense to me.

The Solution

After Ed took the x-rays, he consulted with a few friends of his; a wonderful oral surgeon and a fantastic endodontist.  And in the end, the endodontist treated me.

She is a specialist and expert in her field. In fact, it turns out that she heads up the department of one of our country’s most prestigious dental schools. Luck was on my side.

As soon as I sat down in that wonderful dentist chair I felt safe. And when I heard the beautiful sound of that drill grinding away all my pain, I felt a tremendous sense of relief.

Dr. C made no promises.  While the treatment she prescribed had been 75% successful, there was still a significant chance that her treatment might fail and I’d end up with the oral surgeon.  I understood that and I was comfortable with the treatment we decided on.

So what has any of this got to do with you or your money?

Let’s go through it and see.

1. Consider the “Set Up”.

I didn’t infect my root canal.  I didn’t do anything to cause the problem.  And I certainly had no part in this problem manifesting itself right before the holiday.  It wasn’t my fault but it was my problem.

Are you dealing with a financial problem that you didn’t create?  Have you been laid off?  Have you encountered an unforeseen financial burden that has shifted your economic reality?  If so, it’s your responsibility to fix it…but it makes no sense to waste time or energy beating yourself up.

Even if I was to blame for my dental problem or you are to blame for your financial mess, don’t waste time throwing a pity party or a shame shower. Acknowledge the problem and move on.  You need all your energy to find the solution.

2. The Go-To solution fails.

Here’s an area I still need to work on.

You can bet your dental floss that I’m going to make sure that my new dentist (Ed of course) has an emergency contact number when he’s out of town.  Actually, I have his cell so it’s not a problem….but you get what I mean.

If you have a financial adviser, does she have a backup plan in case something happens to her?  Find out now.  Are you depending on your employer to create a job for you?  What if she goes out of business?  Do you have a “Plan B” just in case?  Have you considered opening your own side-business as an emergency replacement?

Think of all the people you rely on for your financial security.  Do you have a backup plan in case they are unable or unwilling to show up when you need them most?  If not, start working on it today.  The list would include your attorneys, accountants, financial advisers and insurance agents to name a few.

You don’t have to have backups for all these potential problems overnight.  But you should consider yourself warned as of today.  Don’t be complacent like I was. Make a list now and start putting your ducks in a row.

3. Reality sets in.

For me, I had to understand the seriousness of my situation and I had to be honest with myself.  I was in for a very long weekend and I had to make the best of it.  Nobody was going to “come make it better”.

Are you being completely honest about your financial situation?  Are you hoping that somebody is going to “come make it better” – as if by magic?

You know it’s not going to happen.

The only person who can make your situation better is you. Don’t sit around waiting or complaining about somebody else. You’ve got to take the bull by the horns….and the good news is…..you can.

4. Consider all the alternatives

I had to think of all the possible solutions to fix my pain problem as soon as possible.  Have you considered all the alternatives to fix the financial challenges you are dealing with? Have you taken the time to write it down on a piece of paper?  If not, let’s go ahead and do it right now.

List the issues you struggle with. Is it finding work?  Dealing with retirement income?  Helping your children get on their own two feet?  What exactly are the challenges you face?

List all the possible alternative solutions.

Think outside “the tooth”.

For example, if you are dealing with reduced retirement income, can you get a part-time job?  Can you reduce your spending? Move to a smaller home?  Take in renters?  Stop sending money to the kids?  What are all the alternatives?  Are you willing to consider each of them?

5. Educate Yourself

Before you take action, find out as much as you can about the real cause of the problem and the real meaning of the possible solutions.

I was ignorant.  I didn’t know it was so important to see a specialist.  I figured that if a dentist had the certification to perform a procedure, he or she would do a good job.  Also, I was referred to this dentist from a friend.  While that’s typically how we find professional service providers, it’s not enough.  Now I know better.  How about you?

If you need a trust, are you having a specialist do it? If not, you might be saving a few bucks now only to find yourself (or your estate) in hot water down the road.

Do you have the right team in place? Educate yourself.  Find out.  Take action.

6. The Solution.

Once you’ve gone through the steps mentioned above, pick the best solution.  If required, consult with friends or your accountability partner.  Bounce your ideas off of people you trust and respect but have faith in yourself to make the final choice.

Just like I had to accept the fact that my treatment might not work, I was convinced that it was the smartest approach to take at the time. I was 100% comfortable with the fact that my decision would be wrong 25% of the time.

Likewise, you will decide how to deal with the challenges you face and your solution may not work out. Don’t beat yourself up if that happens.  You can’t predict the future and you are not responsible for it either.

If you do the best you can after having done the most thorough investigation you can, let the result go and deal with the future as it unfolds.

In conclusion, it seems to me that the process I went through with my teeth mirrors what many people go through when they face financial difficulties.  Thinking back on similar experiences, have you gone through anything like this that you drew life lessons from?

Not everyone is lucky enough to have a frugal dad. Even fewer are lucky enough to realize their good fortune when they’re still able to thank him.

Medical problems mean my father will never now read this article that he’s inspired with his low-spending ways.

Instead, I hope sharing some of the things he taught me goes someway to thanking the fates for my good luck.

1. You are not what you wear

In his own way, my dad would dress up for what he’d consider a special occasion.

Unfortunately for the more dress-conscious members of my extended family, almost no occasion was special enough.

True, Monday-Friday, 9-5 he wore the worn-in tie and jacket uniform of his generation of white collar workers.

But in the evenings or at weekends he donned jeans with holes in them, jumpers with holes in the holes, and sometimes half in irony something awful on his head.

That didn’t matter when he was mending things, working in the garage or making furniture on demand for my mother – which was most of the time and exactly why he wore them.

And it didn’t really matter when he drove to collect my teenage cousin from her ballet classes in ever more comically awful clothes, just to embarrass her.

I grew up knowing that appearances didn’t matter – it was what the person wearing the clothes did that was important.

And my cousin would now agree. The childhood horror has become an amusing anecdote, and it’s the memory of an uncle who went out of his way to keep her attending her ballet classes that endures.

2. Little moments matter most

Occasionally my dad claimed he’d quite like to spend money on a sports car but my mother “wouldn’t let him”.

I think just the idea of blowing money on something material was satisfaction enough.

In reality what has mattered for him most throughout his life are tiny moments of experience – often with my mother, always with the family – and they very rarely cost much at all.

For instance, in their late 50s they got into hiking, and towards the end of this phase when both he and my mum had retired I got more insight into this mindset when he began using his new mobile phone to send me SMS messages from the trail.

‘Facing the Atlantic with the sun on our back and half our tea left. It doesn’t get better than this.’

or

‘Fish and chips from the best takeaway in the world. Mum only ate half hers, so I had to finish it off. It doesn’t get better than that.’

In the early days I questioned his judgement – and more than once wondered why he insisted on affording me these insights during hours when he knew I must be at work.

Even typing that sentence – and knowing my dad – the answer is obvious.

And the older I get, the surer I am of his judgement.

3. Nothing is ever broken

As a child of World War 2 – he was born amid the bombs of the Blitz here in Europe – my father was raised against a backdrop of rationing and ruins.

Like many of his generation, he’d therefore been instilled with a ‘make do and mend’ mentality that in his case persisted after the economic boom of the 1950s and 1960s that he shared in, too.

It helped that he was very handy – furniture repairs were easy, for instance, and he grew up fixing cars.

But he went further than that, recycling delivery palettes into garden fences, or turning the broken down brick wall that fence replaced into a rust-red paving for a BBQ area.

I might be giving the impression here that my parents lived in some sort of rural shack held together by bits of string.

It’s true that some visitors were surprised to see old sinks recycled into plant pots or old doors made into work benches – in later years my dad would boast he’d been green years before it was fashionable, rather than being cheap!

But overall my parents lived better than they otherwise would have, in always lovingly cared for and (generally) conventionally pretty homes, by spending less money and instead being creative and finding a use for anything.

4. Keep money in perspective

Given that I write a blog about money and investing, you might say that I’ve failed miserably to learn this lesson.

But the very fact that I’m writing right now is a testament to my dad’s example.

If I’d followed the path trod by many of my peers from college, I’d be being too busy in the corporate world doing something I hated to even dash off an email to my girlfriend, let alone wax lyrical about my father’s dubious jeans at 3pm on a Monday afternoon.

Indeed, I wasn’t even 30 before I downshifted and got out of the rat race to work as a freelance at hours and in places that suited me.

Often that’s meant longer hours for a time, and sometimes for less money.

But I’m my own boss, nobody can tell me what to do, and I make my own rules without the peer pressure of the typical office (one reason perhaps why I’ve found it easy to salt away 30% or more of my income).

It’s true I’ve probably capped my earning potential by deciding not to follow the carrot of an ever-higher salary up the career ladder.

But money is just money. Our days are too short to be ruled by it.

5. You must control your financial future

Hang on, didn’t I just say money was over-rated?

I did.

Of course I realize that money can mean almost everything if you haven’t got it, whereas in contrast having a lot of it can give you all kinds of possibilities.

But if you don’t put money in its place, you’ll never enjoy any of the riches you do make.

Equally, if you don’t realise that money is just a means and not an end then when you’ve got little money you’ll not appreciate the better things you want it for – to feed your family or to give your beautiful daughter new shoes.

It’s all too easy to see the candle and not the flame. We don’t live for money, we don’t remember it when we’re old, and we’d be better off in a world without it.

But that isn’t the world we live in – which is why I’m dedicated to saving and investing my way to financial freedom, while trying to keep a sense of perspective along the way.

And here my final lesson from my father was an unfortunate one.

Dad did exactly what he was supposed to – he shunned debt, paid off his mortgage, built up a relatively large pension, and ensured his family and my mother were adequately covered should the worst happen.

Yet when the worst did come calling – in a doctors’ surgery, in the form of a diagnosis that gave him less years than he expected but more than he wanted to spend at work – he wasn’t able to immediately quit his day job because of the rules around his company pension.

As a result he had to work for more years than he wanted to, just to avoid massive cuts to his retirement entitlements. (Even then he did retire before his time, and at some significant financial cost).

Happily my dad put up a good fight against his condition, and it’s taken more years than we might have expected for it to move to a threatening state. So he did get to enjoy some of the retirement he’d so looked forward to.

But what struck me about the entire episode was the lack of control he had over all the money he’d paid into his pension over the years.

I decided that it wouldn’t be the same for me.

Explaining the different route I’ve taking would require more posts – an entire blog , in fact – and it’s very unlikely my dad will ever see the results of the lessons I’ve learned from him.

But some day I hope to be sitting on a cliff top somewhere, in the sun, financially independent and with someone I love, and I’ll remember my frugal dad in his frayed jeans enjoying a slice of my mum’s cake like it was caviar on a blini, and I’ll toast him and everything he’s taught me.