It's Saturday, and I've been thinking. My thoughts have been ranging far and wide this morning, but one thought stood out from all the rest:The best things in life are free.
Perhaps it's because I've never been a money magnet that this one statement rang out, loud and clear, from the recesses of my racing thoughts. I don't like money. I don't like the concept of money. I don't believe money is value. Money certainly isn't fulfilling! I only "need" money because someone else wants it!
You always get what you need.
The truth of this statement is one of those things that smacks you good when you realize it. Where there is money, "need" takes on a whole different meaning. Subtract money from the equation, and what is truly a "need" becomes clear. Think about the homeless person on the street. The basic needs of food, clothing and shelter are met, albeit differently, otherwise that person wouldn't still be there day after day. As long as you are alive, you can live because you always get what you need. So, stop worrying about money!
In it, but not of it.
Money is depressing. I hate it. I hate it when I have it and hate it when I don't. That's proof enough to me that money doesn't mean crap to the Grand Scheme of Things. OK, so I'm weird. I'm not busting my arse in the pursuit of money, yet I'm still here, alive and well. I walk along side those with no money just the same as I walk along side those with gazillions.
What's the difference?
For me, there is no difference. I yam who I yam.
There are those that will beg, borrow and steal to have money. That's all they think about. When they get money, they never have it for very long. They are hollow.
There are those that have money that try to pretend that they don't. That's all they think about. They have it, yet they are hollow too because they can only relate to others wearing the same facade. It's a source of fear. They have money and are terrified by the thought of not having it.
There are those with money running around flaunting jewels and Mercedes dictating how what they 'donate' helps the 'needy.' When their rose colored glasses become smudged, they just throw them out and buy a new pair. They wonder why there is never any satisfaction in giving. Surely that single mother with three babies would be so much better off with a crystal bowl!
Then there are those that do or don't have money, and you can't tell. What they have or don't have doesn't define who they are. They see the world beyond surface value and appearances.
I sit on the outside looking in and wonder.
Can someone with money choose to leave it behind? Can success be separated from a bank account balance? Can value be appraised without a dollar amount as the scale? Would worth be worthless without money?
What good is a Stradivarius if no one knows how to play it? Does that Rembrandt or Monet look better sitting in a vault? Will that Jaguar change getting from point A to point B? Would that luxurious fur coat offer more warmth than a parka? Is a mansion any more a home than a trailer? Does the actor act better seen on a big, flat screen TV? Do words written in gold mean more than the words written in pencil?
Life is free.
From the outside looking in I continue to sit. I can play a Stradivarius, I can drive, I can keep warm, I can come home, and I can write. I can love, I can laugh, I can create, I can give, I can cry and I've done so all of my life.
Without money.
