I’ve been thinking about the important connections in my life – those things and relationships I would willingly endure real sacrifices to maintain. The list isn’t startling – my husband, my son, my family and close friends, one of my old bosses, my internet access (yes, it does rise to that level).
Money isn’t on that list – or even close to it. So why is most of my time and nearly all of my energy consumed by the acquisition and maintenance of money? Of course, I need money to survive in this world. I must keep a roof over my head and food on the table and a number of other necessities of the modern world. But all too often I have substituted money, itself, as the goal. And what have I learned? Money is a selfish master.
Money sets itself as a self-perpetuating goal. For the first two or three years of our marriage, my husband and I lived below the poverty line. We ate the surplus cheese distributed from the back a white box truck. We cooked together. Cleaned together. Anything that broke, we fixed ourselves or did without. And we had fun. I’m not saying there weren’t downsides. Carefully calculating the cost of the food in the cart to make sure we’d have enough money left to pay the rent was not “fun.” But we had time and energy to spend on the things we enjoyed.
We don’t do those things much anymore. We talk about them. Often, by the end of the weekend, we tell ourselves we are going to go for walks together every day. We are going to do more cooking. We are going to dig into the home repair projects. And then on Monday, we go to work, our jobs consume us, and we find ourselves sitting at home, watching TV or staring at the computer, not talking, not moving, and not getting anything done. So eventually, we pay someone to do those things we had planned to do ourselves. We hire a handyman to fix the molding and paint the trim, and we go to restaurants where someone else will cook. But those things cost money, so we must work harder to pay for those things.
Wait. The things we enjoyed are the things we are now paying someone else do to because we’re too tired from working to pay for those people to do them? That doesn’t make much sense. But, for me at least, it is the nature of pursuing money. The goal keeps getting higher, remaining just out of reach, while forcing away life’s simple pleasures.
So I’ve decided to do something about it. I am stepping away from the work world for a few months to readjust both my priorities and my budget. This isn’t going to be a world-travel kind of sabbatical, although I imagine we will do some exploring. I will continue my writing and plan to spend far more time on it. But some of the time I had spent in the pursuit of money will be used remembering how to live with less of it, and doing the things I’ve always enjoyed.
I’m planning to blog from time to time about how it is going. I am sure there will be ups and downs, some expected, some not. Where will this lead? What will happen? I don’t know, and that is something new and exciting in my life. That, alone, is good. Stay tuned.