Published at
23 May, 2025
Author
Gripastudio
“We chase salaries, promotions, and titles—yet the question lingers quietly: Is it enough? Not just in numbers, but in meaning. This reflection invites you to look beyond income and into the real currency of life: dignity, balance, and the quiet peace of knowing what truly matters.”
It was a question I asked myself more times than I can count—sometimes silently in the middle of a long commute, other times at the end of a particularly tough month.
It sounded like a financial question. But really, it never was just about money.
Even now, in retirement, I remember how it used to echo in the background of my working life.
Am I earning enough? For what I do? For the hours I give? For the life I want to build? For the expectations of others?
And underneath it all… For the sense of safety I desperately sought?
During the peak of my career, I had what many would call “a good job.” A stable income. Recognition. Respect.
But still, the question whispered. And the strange thing was—every time I earned more, it didn’t silence the voice. It simply raised the bar.
There was always a better salary somewhere else. A promotion still out of reach. A colleague earning more. A cost rising quietly in the background.
The numbers grew. But “enough” remained just beyond reach.
There is an old Javanese proverb that comes to mind:
“Urip iku cukup, dudu kudu.” (Life is about enough, not about musts.)
It reminds us that enough is not a fixed number. It’s not determined by what others have. It’s a deeply personal space—a quiet agreement between your needs and your values.
But in today’s world, that wisdom gets drowned out. We live in a culture that ties worth to wealth. That celebrates constant growth, even when it exhausts us. That equates “earning enough” with “being enough.”
And that is where the pain begins...
In my years of working, I’ve come to realise that “earning enough” is rarely just about the salary.
It’s also about: • The time you still have for yourself and your family • The freedom to rest without guilt • The peace of knowing your work aligns with your values • The energy left in your body at the end of the day • The sense of purpose you feel when you wake up in the morning
Earning more while sacrificing those things may increase your income, but not your life. And now, in retirement, I finally see it: Some of my most fulfilling years weren’t the ones when I earned the most. They were the ones when I felt most aligned—with who I was, and what I gave to the world.
A friend once said to me, “I earn well—but not as well as I should for my experience.” I asked, “Compared to whom?” He paused. And that pause said everything.
We don’t just ask if we earn enough. We ask if we earn as much as they do. Whoever “they” are.
But comparison is a moving target. It robs us of contentment. It turns gratitude into resentment. It clouds the real question we should be asking: What do I need to feel secure, balanced, and alive?
Javanese wisdom encourages rasa syukur—a cultivated sense of gratitude that arises not from settling, but from understanding what truly matters.
So maybe the next time you ask, Am I earning enough?, try to listen more deeply.
Ask yourself: • Is the life I’m earning aligned with the life I actually want? • What am I trading for this paycheck—and is it worth it? • Am I living for numbers, or for meaning? • Do I know what enough looks like for me—not for them, not for society, but for me?
Because in the end, ‘Enough’ isn’t always about Rupiah. It’s about feeling respected. Feeling valued. Being given space to breathe, to grow, to just be.
These aren’t the questions the world often asks us to consider. But they’re the ones that will define whether we’re truly well—or just paid.
Now that I’m no longer earning a monthly income, the question comes in a different form.
It sounds like: • Did I build wisely? • Did I give generously? • Did I live fully enough to be at peace with what I have?
And most days, I quietly answer: Yes. Enough.
Not because I have the most. Not because I won the race. But because I finally stopped chasing someone else’s version of success—and began listening to my own.
Because in the end, we all chase numbers—until we realise the richest life isn’t measured in what we’ve earned, but in what we’ve honoured.
Urip iku cukup, dudu kudu. To live is not to chase endlessly, but to know, deeply, when it is already enough.
And in that knowing—quiet and steady— peace begins. And that, perhaps, is the true wealth we were meant for all along.
Radio is paused