At what point does Jeff Bezos say he has enough money, or Tiger Woods enough wins, or Jay Leno enough cars? Or at what point does the power-hungry politician or preacher say he has enough power?

You may laugh at this question because, ultimately, the vast majority of us don’t know, do we? We don’t have multiple houses and yachts and investment accounts. We can’t play golf like Tiger or make money like Bezos. The majority of Americans live paycheck to paycheck and are virtually cash-strapped.

Living inside your means is not common sense anymore.

This is why Dave Ramsey created such a huge following, simply by campaigning against debt and overspending. 

America is broke because we never have enough.

It’s not that we have a selfish problem; we typically can’t even save for our future, retired selves. (The average retiree has only 75,000 in their IRA!) 

The problem is, we are hooked on the instant gratification of immediate comfort and decadence, and we are sucked into the next big goal down our road. 

So we need to draw a line in the sand—limit ourselves—in order to move ahead.

There have been many practitioners of this lifestyle, but one such prophet came to me in the podcast called The Redemptive Edge. Pete Ochs is founder of Capital III, in Wichita Kansas, an investment company making more money than any of us know what to do with, and yet the central point to his interview was that early on he made the decision to cap his lifestyle.

His story is just like the rest of successful entrepreneurs: he tried hard, grinding out years of hard work until he created a successful company. And he did realize his goals, but they kept moving, and he realized he would never succeed unless he redefined success. He didn’t know how to truly invest in purpose bigger than himself.

So he went back to the drawing board and retooled core concepts like wealth and success and generosity, and this is what he uncovered.

First, you have to find out what is enough. He separates wealth into three categories—financial, social, and spiritual—and says we were all given wealth in at least one of those areas. It’s our job to limit how much of that we blow on ourselves so that we can use the rest (which he calls capital) to multiply and put at risk for others.

Second, success is about service over self. Our culture sees success as measured in financial and material gain. We have game shows fixated upon becoming wealthy. Millions pour into casinos and lottery ticket lines, spending their hard-earned money trying to get rich.

Typically, we spend money trying to buy our happiness, scraping our way through a world of scarcity, when the only true path to success is to operate in a world of excess, where we have blessings running over, looking for how to invest them in those around us.

It’s a subtle but significant mental shift.

Typically, family reunions are spent comparing success and talking about the latest toys or hobbies or products, and we gather around to share our success-story like a sales pitch, hoping everyone will see and admire our worth, when the only things that really matter are the things we aren’t free to talk about.

When was the last time we had honest conversation about things that mattered, about true success? Or the last time we embraced limitation—a small house or a small, old boat—as success?

This is a law of nature, intrinsic in creation, capitalism, and economics: cap your lifestyle, no matter your income level, otherwise it will crush you.

For some, it takes Dave Ramsey yelling at them for having too much debt.

For others, the subtle feeling of emptiness, betraying their full bank accounts or full garages.

For them, the question needs to change from how much is enough, to how little do I need, and how much can I do?

“The greatest use of a life is to spend it on something that will outlast it.” ~William James