It's been a little while. There are two reasons for the time gap: I am again attempting to potty train the toddler (which is *still* not going well) and I have been doing some research on a subject about which I am very interested in writing. My research isn't done, so while you're awaiting the magnificence of that thoroughly investigated post, you get some unfounded musings on that stuff that makes the world go 'round: money.
I am not rich. I could be. I have abilities equal to that of Stephenie Meyer or E. L. James. I also have the mental capacity to learn to do almost any profession (I'm not going to pretend that I could have been Bill Gates or Michael Jordan), including those that are very well-payed. My husband is equally as talented, and actually has immense earning potential in his chosen field right now. So why does our family of four live in a two bedroom, one garage townhome? Why do I drive a used Subaru Forrester that's more than a decade old? Why do the majority of the items in my closet cost less than $20 each? Because it's true that money can't buy happiness.
1. "Happiness is only when shared." If you haven't seen Into the Wild, you should (especially because one of the most talented of all musicians wrote the soundtrack). Basically, a dude ventures out with nothing to call his own, to live by himself in the middle of the snow in Alaska. He dies. But before he dies, he writes the above quote in the margins of a book. The way I see it, the quote could have more than one meaning. Two are applicable to this post: a) Sharing happiness is the only way to have it to begin with. b) Life experiences mean nothing if they are not shared with someone else. I don't have time to be rich. The countless hours that I or my husband would need to spend away from our family in order to make considerable amounts of money are not worth any dollar amount. We are too busy engaged in the life experiences of raising children *together* in the pursuit of our own happiness, and in imparting the happiness we have in our having children *with* our children that there is no time for money.
2. Some people can make money without spending copious amounts of time doing so. I don't think authors of popular fiction like those I mentioned earlier have had to sacrifice family time to make their moola, so why am I not busy writing a stupid story that will enamor millions of adoring fans instead of this blog that maybe three people read? That was rhetorical. I can't bring myself to write something stupid...at least not on purpose. I've tried. I wrote several chapters of a novel once before I had children. It was deep and poignant, but I still wasn't satisfied with it and I scrapped the whole thing. I don't think I could live with myself if I were to make money doing something that didn't require a lot of time, effort, thought, etc.
3. I don't like stuff. I have absolutely no attachment, sentimental or otherwise, to any object. When people ask me what one item I would try to save if my house burned down, I tell them it's the laptop because all of our family's photographs are on it. Even if the laptop didn't make it out, I wouldn't be too upset. I have memories, documented or not. I'd prefer to live in a society that didn't depend so much on material things. However, I live where I live and I have stuff because it's culturally convenient. Point is, I definitely don't need more of it so I don't need more money to buy it.
I have no beef with people who do or want to make oodles of money. I don't want their money. I don't even want more of my own. They might be every bit as happy with their money as I am without it. In fact, I think some people are happiest while in pursuit of money, and I don't think that's a bad thing. But money really can't buy happiness, though it can buy ice cream...which is the next best thing.
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