INTRODUCTION

Insufficient Funds is a super‐common and very relatable concept. In fact, almost all of us know it a little too well.

Whether you've been abruptly confronted by this problem at a checkout or an ATM, or have suffered the rude shock of being unprepared for a financial emergency, or it's just a general feeling you get when you think about your money, you're familiar with the discomfort it brings. Insufficient Funds is a place you've been — there's a good chance you're there right now and that's why you picked up this book.

The scary thing is that, if left unaddressed, this predicament can ruin you. It can dampen your motivation, crush your lust for life and smother your chances of achieving all the good things you were born to achieve. If left to fester for too long, it can see you settling for a lesser life than the one you're capable of living, and ending up unhappy and unfulfilled.

As you begin to read this book, more than likely your starting point is Insufficient Funds, as defined by you. Crucially, this will not always be obvious. You may not be swimming in debt or have a $0 bank account. Perhaps it's just a feeling that you're not on track, or you find yourself comparing your life to your friends’ or family's, and wishing it was different. It could be you're not happy with your financial progress or direction, you're overwhelmed by options and decision fatigue. Perhaps you're uncertain about how your current financial decisions will impact your and your family's future.

My goal in this book is to guide you far away from this place and ensure you never return.

The true meaning of Sufficient Funds

Most people we meet in our financial advice business are struggling to align their money decisions with their lives in a way that ensures they have ‘sufficient funds’. Often this is because they haven't defined sufficient as it applies to them and therefore are chasing their tails. Even if they have a financial plan, it's destined to fail if they haven't stopped and asked themselves the all‐encompassing question: What really matters to me?

We all strive for financial wellbeing. While this will look different for each of us, essentially it could be defined as ‘having sufficient funds for your chosen lifestyle at a given point in time’.

Sufficient Funds doesn't mean being restricted to a low‐cost, meagre existence and just getting by. Sufficient for you is about defining what your ideal life looks like then creating and implementing a plan to make it happen!

This involves giving yourself permission to give society's norms the big middle finger. For too long society's expectations have set the rules for us: get an education, get a job, get married, buy a house, have kids, work 9 to 5 for 40 years, take two to four weeks’ holiday a year, retire … then die. Not cool. Life should be way more fun than this!

Life isn't like golf where the quality of the dot points don't matter and the only thing that counts is the number on the card at the end of the game. You could land one shot in the water, the next in the bunker and still sink one from 100 metres out for par. Our lives are defined by the time we spend between the dots, not the scorecard. You make micro money decisions every single day, but do you ever stop to think about the impact of these decisions on the life you're striving for?

Your ability to live the life you dream of is dictated by two core components:

1. making sound financial decisions
2. aligning these decisions with your ideal life.

In our work, we meet lots of people who have a fairly good handle on number 1, but almost no one truly gets the second part. Sound financial decisions mean little in the long run if you're not happy. So these two elements go very much hand in hand. You need to be able to cut through to the core of what makes you tick, then be strategic about how you put it all in place. It's tough, but I'm about to show you how.

I spend my days helping people see what's possible with their finances and in this book I'm going to share all this with you and more. It's time to live on your own terms, with a good stash of cash to create your dream life, whatever that means to you.

Let's roll on and see how you're going to take your life from Insufficient to Sufficient Funds.

The ATM slip and one all‐time road trip

At 20 years old, during my time at university, I was lucky enough to do a semester in Canada. I studied for four months at UVic on Vancouver Island in BC. I surfed in a 5mm wetsuit in 6‐degree water, had a season pass at Whistler, partied five nights a week, and passed all of my subjects with flying colours (read: a consistent 50 per cent!). I made friends for life with a bunch of peeps who had a lust for living the likes of which I'd never seen. Maybe it was the mountains, or the Fireball! At the end of that semester I met up with G‐Rod, Sammy and Jezza, three of my best mates from home who had also been ‘studying’ in North America, and we pulled off a dream road trip on a shoestring budget.

A few weeks before we left on this adventure we'd been out drinking at Customs House, one of the usual hangs in Newcastle. It was student‐night $1 drinks, four at a time — a standard Wednesday really for campus‐living uni students. One of the boys, who had sold his body board for $40 just to come out for a night, returned from the ATM with ‘Insufficient Funds’ obtrusively highlighted on his receipt. We all lost it! But as the laughter died a terrible idea was hatched. Insufficient Funds would be an awesome band name! Jezza had mad skills on the piano, but given the rest of us had little to offer in the way of musical talent we reluctantly concluded that this wasn't going to be our path to fame and fortune. The Customs’ drinks flowed and the plans continued to gain momentum. We would start a surf brand instead! A week later we had 50 trucker caps and T‐shirts with Insufficient Funds printed and we sold these to our mates, as well as a few on eBay. We were gaining notoriety around the Newcastle Uni campus. Fuelled by the dream of our future multimillion‐dollar baby, we flew out on our overseas exchange with grand visions of surfing, travelling and partying without strings.

For a thousand bucks US we bought a beat‐up old Chrysler LeBaron station wagon, the one with the wooden panels. It was a shocker, so luckily for us we had our accents for currency. We drove this beast around the US for two months, covering 10 865 miles across 18 states. We basically tracked a horseshoe from Vancouver, Canada, down the west coast to Baja, Mexico, over to Florida, up to Ontario, Canada, and back to New York City. We dumped the car in the Bronx — keys in the ignition — and flew home. The car was registered in Sammy's name and years later his poor mum was still getting holding and towing fines in the mail from Yonkers Police Department. Sorry Louise.

The road trip was long, the tales we still tell even longer. Here are a few (more or less PC) highlights:

• bungee jumping in Nanaimo, Vancouver Island — free on Valentine's Day if you went nude
• the Southern Oregon coast — one of my favourite places in the world: surfing with sea lions chased in by the great whites on a remote beach near Florence, and scaring the shit out of a local fisherman in the process
• Yosemite, CA — hiking and teaming up with a couple of locals who cooked us our first barbecued steaks in months (shout‐out to Kevin and Sheldon, who then poured all the leftover blood and meat juices around our tent in the hope we'd experience the local grizzlies up close and personal)
• all the natural wonders — from General Sherman in Sequoia National Park, one of the tallest trees in the world, to Grand Canyon and Sedona in Arizona
• surfing famed California breaks like Steamer Lane and Trestles, and many lesser‐known remote spots in Oregon, Cali and Baja, Mexico
• renting kayaks (and scoring bonus joints) from a guy in La Bufadora on the Baja coast, and spending the next five hours exploring the blowhole and random caves — Sammy losing his sunnies and thongs while trying to ride the ‘rapids’
• driving through Death Valley, CA, with no aircon, where a flat tyre meant the boys changing the flat in 52‐degree heat while I was busy fertilising the cacti as a result of severe food poisoning (thanks Mexico!)
• turning 21 in Vegas — enough said
• partying with a 60‐year‐old pimp named Al Jolly in Dallas, TX
• riding bikes, dodging snakes and massive gators, around the Everglades
• ending up on the ‘don't‐ever‐fucking‐go‐there’ side of town everywhere we went — special mentions include nearly side‐swiping a car in Compton, getting stuck doing a 10‐point turn as we woke up locals at midnight in New Orleans, and me being chased by a drug dealer with a knife through the back streets of Charleston, SC (don't ask)
• staying in a billionaire's mansion on a lake in Ontario, thanks to our well‐connected...