Saving money as an adult feels a lot less charming than it did when I was a child. Back then, dropping coins into a piggy bank felt almost thrilling because of the pure accumulation without consequence. As adults, saving often comes with spreadsheets, deposits, transfers, tax implications, stress, schedules, trade-offs, and a constant tug-of-war between wants and needs.
But in late 2024, an unexpected conversation reminded me that saving doesn’t have to be painful, complicated, or joyless. I was at the Santee Swap Meet, talking with Ryan, one of the sellers I’d gotten to know over time. Our conversation drifted toward the uncertainty surrounding the future of the swap meet location. At the time, no one really knew where it might be moved. Ryan mentioned that he was helping look for a future spot along with a couple of other long-time pro-sellers, but nothing was finalized. It was one of those conversations rooted in uncertainty, looming, no clear answers yet.
The Switch
Somewhere in the middle of that discussion, Ryan casually shared something that stuck with me far more than the real estate speculation. He told me that every time he receives a $10 bill, he doesn’t spend it, ever… Instead, he sets it aside and stuffs it away for at least a year. When the time comes, he spends that money all at once and not on something he needs, but on something he wants.
There was something simple and powerful about that idea. It wasn’t about deprivation or extreme budgeting. It was intentional… Almost invisible… He didn’t track it obsessively or announce it to the world. He just let it accumulate.
That conversation followed me home.
One evening not long after, I noticed a jar of fifty-cent pieces sitting around my room. That jar had been there for over three years, largely ignored, more decorative than purposeful. Looking at it, I had a small moment of realization: this could be my version of Ryan’s $10 rule. A way to save money without overthinking it. A way to prioritize future wants without feeling like I was constantly denying myself in the present.
That’s when I decided on my own rule: I would save any dollar amount that started with a five. That meant I would stash away all the following as if it started with a five, it went into the container. No exceptions.
- fifty-cent pieces
- five-dollar bills
- yes—even fifty-dollar bills
At first, it felt almost silly. Tossing in a few coins here, a five-dollar bill there and it didn’t seem like much. But week after week, the habit built itself quietly in the background of my life. There was no pressure, no strict timeline, no guilt attached. I wasn’t forcing myself to save a specific amount each week. I was simply redirecting certain bills before they had a chance to disappear into everyday spending.
Eventually, something unexpected happened: the container started getting full.
It became physically difficult to STUFF and SHOVE more cash inside. That moment felt oddly satisfying. I opened it up and carefully stacked the bills inside, making room for more. That was when the abstract idea of “saving” turned into something tangible. I could see it in my hands. I could feel it in my hands. The weight and texture of it was real. Real satisfying.
In the End
After a full year of doing this, I finally opened everything up and counted it. The total surprised me: over $1,900.
I split it intentionally. All of the five-dollar bills went straight into the bank. The fifty-dollar bills stayed with me, locked safely away in my floor safe. There was something symbolic about that division with that structure paired with flexibility, security paired with reward.
I may never do this experiment again, or maybe I will, in some other form. What stood out most to me wasn’t the dollar amount after the year and how painless process had been. I genuinely didn’t notice the absence of that money in my day-to-day life. It never felt like a sacrifice to me, just a habit that I adhered to.
More importantly, it required a level of honesty and personal growth. Saving like this meant being conscious of what I was putting away, but of what I wasn’t spending. It meant recognizing impulse in real time to use that bill and choosing intention instead. Just awareness was all I focused on. Sometimes, it’s just about noticing the fives and letting them wait.