After fantasizing about an RV vacation for years, we decided to test drive the idea by renting one for a weekend getaway to a Northern California music festival.   We loved the music, and it was a wonderful weekend, but we discovered that we are not, as it turns out, RV people.  We much prefer camping, where we can cook and eat outside, our young children can run around the campground, and we aren’t separated from other families by four metal walls.

At the end of the weekend, we returned the RV to the rental place, and discovered that our Honda had been broken into.  The RV rental company had assured us the car would be fine, and against better judgment, we left it parked on the street; now, the passenger window was smashed to pieces, and our iPod and $20 in cash were missing. The total cost to fix the car, clean up the glass and replace the iPod was $700.  Add that to the $750 RV rental fee, and the test drive put us back $1,450. Ouch!

Had this happened 10 years ago, I probably would have been upset for a week, tried to make up the $1,450 by day-trading, and blamed my wife for the whole thing.

…I might also have bought an RV–not rented one–in order to determine how much we liked it.

But curing my money madness means that I make better, more sound financial decisions, and instead of seeing the weekend as a wasteful debacle, I see it as costly, but essentially worth the wisdom gained.

After all, I learned that my family just isn’t an RV family–and much better to make that discovery over the course of a weekend rental than a 6-year financing plan.

Losing money created the opportunity for me to practice gratitude, and to let go of the irrational desire to make up the loss.

That opportunity, in turn, was a chance for me to practice affirming that my self-worth is not bound to my net worth.  That alone is priceless.