Happiness is not a private jet, membership to an exclusive fucking golf club or being part of a boardroom where finding new ways to pad the numbers guarantees your next golden parachute when the chips finally fall.
What am I trying to say? I am trying to say that wealth does not equal happiness. Some of the most content people I have known owned next to nothing. Years ago, I worked in a fishing tackle shop where we sold gear to the poorest of the poor and ordered the fanciest equipment for the elite, the 1%. It was always a rat race among the richest to have the newest, the "best" and most advanced equipment. Yet, you know who the happiest person was? It was an older gentleman, who in his 80's, lived on coastal islands and rowed his way from the Carolinas to Florida every winter.
There were many rumors about him, but the consistent one is that he was a son of rich people, a guy that went to WWII or Korea, and came back with PTSD. Supposedly he had money in a trust fund but he lived off the land. Out of all of my customers, he was my favorite in his white rubber boots, long gray beard and the slightly unpleasant aroma which suggested he had slept the last month on a tidal island in a canvas tent.
In 2005, he finally passed on to the other side. He was found in his rowboat 100 miles south. Secretly, I think we all envied him. I still do...