Financial Gain: What Really Matters?

How much really changes when you make a lot of money?

I had told myself that I wouldn’t write much as I was traveling this week. But this morning I am sitting outside soaking in a beautiful setting.

It makes me feel appreciative for all that has unfolded this year: from discovering just how rewarding writing can be, to seeing so many of my convictions come to fruition in real-time. And of course, I feel appreciative for the community that all of my ramblings have given rise to over the last few months.

I’ve discussed my tolerance for risk on many occasions throughout this journey. But I haven’t talked too much about what underlies it. The truth is that it wasn’t always this easy to stomach. When I first began investing, particularly when I first discovered derivatives, I remember that losses, whether realized or not, were difficult to stomach. One of the first positions I ever opened was a small set of AAPL calls which almost immediately went red. The total sum (a few hundred dollars) pales in comparison to the swings that I see in my portfolio now, although I didn’t have much savings at the time relative to what I have earned this year (I believe that my life savings was maybe $30,000 at the time). All the same, I remember my stomach churning watching it lose value - and I remember being harsh with myself about allowing that to happen or for touching derivatives in the first place.

As time went on, this attitude to my portfolio changed rather dramatically. In the height of the critical minerals rush this past October 2025, I shared with you all the way my portfolio had risen and fallen following MP materials prior to the Pentagon becoming their largest shareholder and Apple investing a large sum to support them in tandem. This was from February to June of 2025.

Watching my account oscillate like a pendulum before that pivotal event, which really cemented all that would follow, I reflected on just how much had changed in my attitude towards financial gain and loss. What happened to that sensitivity that I had remembered so sharply from my beginnings in investing all those many years ago?

I am sure some of it is purely desensitization by way of exposure. When you experience loss as many times as I have, it stops having as much of an effect. But so too did it come from a changing understanding of the importance of financial gain altogether. And that understanding has come from movements upwards as much as it has come from all of the downturns. For those that have been following me, the height of my own account a few weeks back was at $45 million (not considering private placements which I entered once I had met the qualified buyer threshold).

But what of it? How did it make me feel? At the risk of sounding cliché, I’ll say that in the western world, we are raised to believe that life-changing sums of money will in fact change your life; that the rise from bracket to bracket brings with it so much that is worth coveting. For myself, however, that didn’t end up feeling all that relatable. Whether it was a tremendous gain or a tremendous loss, I saw that not much had really changed in my life at all. The sun still rose as it did, as beautiful as ever. My latte at the café across the street still cost the same, as did the cost of a movie ticket or a good book. My relationships were also largely unchanged (in some cases, I actually worried a few were being stress-tested).

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for all I have been given. All I can speak to is my own understanding of myself. And for myself, I have come to see that the merit of financial gain had to do with the alleviation of various causes of suffering related to financial insecurity: debt, housing, food, education, and the trappings of feeling bound to a career and working schedule that give no satisfaction but only serve as a means to one’s own, or their loved ones, survival. Beyond alleviating those sources of stress, it didn’t really seem to make much of a difference. Granted, some of these areas do require substantial capital to attain (particularly, autonomy, or the ability to walk away and not have to work in a way you don’t want to work).

At this point in my life, I write for the joy that comes with it and the small hope that others find something useful in what I say. And I invest for the love of the game itself and because of ambitions I have, not for myself, but in the ways I might be able to give back to the world, were that a path that might open up for me. I mentioned months ago, when my account value was at about ~$15 million, that I had intentions of starting a foundation. And I continue to look forward to that, although I have found that it can be slow-going not only because of the bureaucracy required, but also because I am in some ways still rather lost about what exactly I want in that chapter of my life and what the flavor of that aforementioned institution might look like.

But it is clear to me that service and giving in general is all-too-neglected and all-too-important. And I wager it isn’t just my own leaning that makes me think this. From tradition to tradition, and in psychology, we see and are told of for the ways that generosity can transform our own hearts. If you want to entertain the thought further, I read a great book on it a few months ago by the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu called The Book of Joy. In it, the writer Douglas Abrams reflects:

When we practice a generosity of spirit, we are in many ways practicing all the other pillars of joy. In generosity, there is a wider perspective, in which we see our connection to all others. There is a humility that recognizes our place in the world and acknowledges that at another time we could be the one in need, whether that need is material, emotional, or spiritual. There is a sense of humor and an ability to laugh at ourselves so that we do not take ourselves too seriously. There is an acceptance of life, in which we do not force life to be other than what it is. There is a forgiveness of others and a release of what otherwise might have been. There is gratitude for all that we have been given. Finally, we see others with a deep compassion and a desire to help those who are in need. And from this comes a generosity that is “wise selfish,” a generosity that recognizes helping others as helping ourselves. As the Dalai Lama put it, “In fact, taking care of others, helping others, ultimately is the way to discover your own joy and to have a happy life.” (The Book of Joy, page 185)

I’ve said it before, but I hope that one day in the future, my hope is that subscriptions to the Substack can also be purely allocated to this kind of purpose. And I am convinced as ever that the striving towards service of this or any kind is one of the most fundamentally important for anyone that shares the blood of our species.

I hope you all enjoy your weekend.
Steve

Disclaimer: I am not in the business of giving financial advice. That is, I am not a financial advisor. None of what I say here is a recommendation to hold or not hold shares or other instruments of any particular company or series of companies. All that is contained on my page is research in which I convey and substantiate personal views and commentary about where sectors, economic policies, industries, so on, may go. As always, please do your own research and understand the risks involved before placing any trades. I am not responsible for any of the decisions you choose to make.