With the Sunday Scenery series, I try to refrain from telling you what ought to be most important in your life. It’s up to you. But on the occasion of Passover and Easter, allow me to make an unexpected suggestion.

Almost anything you can gather in life has some value depending on how much other people value it. If we’re talking gold, or dollars, or bullets, or beans, it all depends on what other folks think it is worth, and would be willing to give you for it. If you sell a house to get to the Redoubt, what is someone willing to give you for that city condo?

Should you stay in the rat race an extra year so you can buy a better retreat when you do relocate?

Here’s my suggestion. The one thing you cannot amass more of is hours of your life. So how is the quality of those hours averaging for you?

Whether you believe in God’s predetermination, or the inexorable predetermined march of the decay of your cells solely according to natural law, no hard work will let you definitively say, “I’ve added one more year to my life!” Sure, there are healthier habits, but can you know “I would have died on day [x], but a month of green smoothies has pushed that out by a week!”

So if hours your life are the true resource which you are unavoidably spending, hour by hour, until the sand finally runs out and your time on this world has drawn to a close, were they spent well?

Should you stay in the rat race an extra year? What’s a year of your life worth to you? If you had a choice of spending your years from here to your final hour either rich and miserable or happy but less wealthy, which would you pick?

If you could spend an extra year (or five or ten) waking up to look at a vista like the one I feature above, would that be better?

Tomorrow, a significant portion of America will be gathering in belief that death is not the end. They look forward to a bright future and an eternal perspective. But even if you are among them, you were not meant to live joylessly until you pass beyond death.

I did my relocation a lot sooner than I had planned. It meant less cash to work with, but I look back with no regrets. Myself and those I care for feel like we have gotten to spend bonus time in an earthly paradise, because we came to the Redoubt sooner than we originally anticipated. We had to lower our standard of living slightly, but every hour of life has had higher quality and we would never trade that time for a bit more wealth.

What’s most important in your life, and are you getting it where you are now?


What do you see when you open your front door in the morning?