It’s not true that I don’t care about money. I lied. I don’t care about having a lot of money. But that’s all relative. What’s a lot?

I care very much about not having money which happens a lot. For the most part, I really hate money. I’m not altogether sure what happened. I’m not lazy and I’m not dumb but I must be selfish or something because I’m very often poor. I’ve said it before. I would like to live in a barter culture. It’s very straightforward. No mortgages, no interest, no credit, no mutual funds. No fights between friends over money. Just something for something.

I could make clay pots or something for food. I could weave baskets or make stone idols all day long and give them away for food and shelter. Yes, that sounds very attractive.

A lot of my friends have a lot more money than I do. I’m not sure how that happened. Growing up, I was the golden child. The teacher’s pet, the honor’s student and there was no doubt in my mind that I was going to blaze a glorious life.

I’m firmly middle aged now and I am much less assured of that blaze and that glory, I’ve found that doubt and it grew and I’ve recently moved into the doubt that I lacked when I was younger. It’s not about money. Not so much.

Most of my friends are working jobs they hate and planning vacations a year from now, or two years from now. I have a friend who recently said he could take 4 days in Malta this year or 6 days next year and that was about the saddest thing I’ve heard in a while. But he lives well. Still, his job is a shackle. But what I’m doing isn’t right, either. Clearly hiding. Living something like the life I want to live but very humbly. There’s got to be a happy median.

I can’t quite put my finger on what went wrong. Except perhaps that I walked away from not less than two distinct careers. I bore quickly. I can’t commit. I want to do everything and there’s just not enough time. And in my pursuit of wanting to do everything I’m beginning to feel like I’m missing out on some of the basics. I live without the burden of property.

I’m not talking about being rich. I’m just talking about slightly better choices. And slightly better choices means more money.

So, yes. I lied. I do care about money insomuch as I care about not having any. It’s rather like the way I care about oxygen.

SS