A Yearner’s Dilemma

The boy sat at the crest of the sandy New Mexico hill and gazed out toward the pastel-colored horizon. The air was still and the sun seethed his flesh. He didn’t mind the heat. The sweat reminded him that he was still alive, that he could still feel discomfort. If I could just finish school and get into college, he thought, I will have made it. I won’t need to worry anymore.

The student waited anxiously in his college dormitory for his exam grades to appear on his computer screen. He refreshed the screen continuously, hoping for the grades that would lead him towards salvation in the form of salary. If I can just finish college and get into Grad school, I will have done what I need to do, he thought. I will have made it. I won’t need to worry anymore.

The young graduate sat at his newly purchased office desk and stared at a phone that wouldn’t ring. Any day the company’s HR department would call to let him know whether he was selected for the position. If I can just get a good job I will have done everything I set out to do, he thought. I will have made it. I won’t need to worry anymore. I’ll have a salary.

The young professional calculated his new retirement plan to gauge whether it was trending towards his financial goals. These goals were fed to him via his company and told him whether or not his life would be secure in old age. Four years into work and he was still far off-target. He wouldn’t have his annual health insurance, life insurance, or vacation savings at an adequate level to keep from going under. Heart attacks are on the rise, after all. So he stared at his financial figures. Numbers floated in the space of his computer screen, but the numbers were not high enough. If I can just have another one hundred thousand dollars, I will have made it, he thought. I’ll have everything I need. I can finally stop chasing.

Having suffered a mid-life crisis in spite of a generous salary raise, the newly anointed executive stared at his newfound gray hairs and furrowed brow. Who is this balding and debilitating thing staring back at me through the mirror, this creature that was once a child? Now the kids have expenses for their sports. The family food bill is a flood that’s drowning his hopes and dreams. Damn their carnivorous appetites and their needs for toys. I was supposed to have made it, the executive thought to himself. But I’m falling farther behind. He couldn’t even begin to think about college expenses for the kids, nonetheless retirement. He’d be bound to virtual work as an octogenarian, crippled in a nursing home yet still reviewing spreadsheets. But if I can just get another two hundred thousand dollars, he thought, maybe I’ll have what I need. Maybe I can stop worrying. I will have made it.

The newly retired corporate careerist left the office at noon a free man. He was scared: hopefully Social Security would be high enough to cover his future costs. He had no benefits. And to make matters worse he had crippling anxiety from the past decades of work, and his fears steadily debilitated his cardiovascular health. He had enough, but did he have enough to truly be free? His dreams of European vacations still seemed out-of-reach. Maybe if I work part-time, he thought, I’d still have time to get there. He just needed an extra hundred thousand dollars. Time was ticking. The males in his family have a history of strokes and most of these strokes hit in the late 60s. He was 67. And yet he hadn’t done anything but try to get ahead. None of it felt fair. He didn’t have anything that he was entitled to.

Still, he thought, just another hundred thousand dollars and I’ll truly be free. I’ll have what I need to cover my bases. I will have made it. I can finally stop worrying.

He thought of the little boy on the New Mexico hill and wished he’d learned to stop yearning sixty years prior.

Minimalist Chronicles: Money

The philosopher Diogenes was eating bread and lentils for supper. He was seen by the philosopher Aristippus, who lived comfortably by flattering the king. Said Aristippus, "If you would learn to be subservient to the king you would not have to live on lentils." Said Diogenes, "Learn to live on lentils and you will not have to be subservient to the king." 

Chasing money for the sake of having more money, I believe, is a losing game. One only chases money as a means to the end if there is a genuine feeling of lacking. In situations of extreme poverty, one chases basic living necessities that money can potentially provide (but in these situations it is not a fat wallet one craves, it’s the food that a fat wallet would immediately be transferred into).

However, the vicious cycle of chasing money for the mere sake of having more tends to require labor for someone else in some fashion. A higher paycheck requires a higher ranking, and that may entail more hours, worse treatment, and more work drudgery.

Worse yet, money without purpose can never fill the void in the chaser. I would know. I’ve chased money to the top and consequently hit the bottom.

One chases for more money, and maybe gets more, and believes that with this extra cash there are added options, or even added freedoms. And the human tendency is to use this better income to spend more, to “upgrade.” Maybe in an acquisition the spender experiences a moment of euphoria; it feels as though the gaping wound is finally stitched together.

But the stitches don’t hold and the wound’s bleeding slowly accelerates. The feeling of inadequacy returns, and the wound requires more money, better stitches, a better doctor… just to slow the bleeding.

Consumerism breeds feelings of inadequacy, so it seems inevitable that more spending breeds more dissatisfaction.

Without purpose, money is a means to damnation. With purpose, I believe it’s rare that heavy spending (and with it, subservience) is necessary.

I do not say this from observation. This is my experience, from personally attempting to solve my problems via spending.

Similarly, I believe that chasing money for the sake of “total stability” is a losing game. One can never have true stability; life is too short and too volatile to allow for permanent sailing on calm waters. A quest for stability will inevitably deplete a person of happiness, and possibly of sanity. Life begins and ends with a struggle; a struggle with other sperm cells at the beginning, and a struggle for one final gasp of oxygen at the end. It’s only natural that struggle would be a prevalent human condition through the middle.

There will always be a disrupter of stability lurking in the mist ahead. A heart murmur, a disease, the death of a loved one, the loss of a home, the collapse of an economy, the drastic changing of an environment. Having a higher income may alleviate some symptoms, but life is ultimately a fatal condition. In my opinion, it’s more merrily spent avoiding the quest for immortality.

I believe there is a certain relief one can have by accepting chaos as a necessary condition to the human experience. Doing so minimizes one’s paranoia over the future, as well as an unhealthy dwelling over the past. A few deep breaths, bereft of technology and external voices, are all it takes to realize that the present is quite likely okay.

Money is not the cure for chaos, nor is it the bridge to stability.

I think of a recent article I read in which Paris Hilton stated she’d be “satisfied when she finally becomes a billionaire.” Therein lies the problem with money: there’s no actual such things as “enough of it.”

And I think of all the people who told me that they’d be satisfied when they reached a tiny fraction of that number, only to reach that number and decide that their problems would be solved with twice that amount.

Money tends to move goal posts.

Worse yet, it tends to be external forces who convince us that more money is necessary.

I’m not a life coach, but I suspect we would be healthier to prioritize our purpose. Relationships, family, friends, contributions. Money, to me, is an effect of contribution.

Purpose in itself is a difficult term. The modern western world often defines purpose as “career”, or a “dream job”, or “the perfect degree.” That seems to me to be complete nonsense, a corporate illusion.

I believe one can find purpose through many occupations and interactions, through many tasks and puzzles, through many hobbies and activities, through many travels, and many conflicts.

I think of a Chinese traffic conductor on a busy Changchun street I often crossed. Day in and day out, he smiled and said hello in Chinese. And if he saw me, he said hello in English and waved. He had such a mundane and draining job to most observers, but he approached it with zest and passion.

His purpose was to make people smile, and he seemed infinitely happier to me than any successful corporate type I’ve met. The job, to him, was just a vehicle for his purpose.

I therefore don’t think it’s a matter of “minimizing” money, but rather deemphasizing its importance in our lives.

To make people smile like that Chinese traffic conductor is a purpose that would fulfill a lot of people in search of meaning, many of whom likely have much more money than the conductor.

He was happy because he had something that many seek but never get: enough.

To accept ourselves today as enough…