A couple of days ago, I took my wife for a diagnostic procedure, which us older people usually takes 3 hours or so. And, since anesthesia is usually involved, she could not drive herself. So, I packed up some readings and my computer and drove her to the facility. Conveniently, there was a nice looking breakfast—lunch (and self-described) diner right next door. And, even better, they had outdoor seating. I ordered an Hawaiian omelet, which I thought was a bit pricy, but it sounded delicious. When it arrived, it took up over half of a 14-inch plate with the other half stacked with hash browns, I realized the price was not bad at all. It could easily have been brunch and dinner, but I devoured it in one sitting. The owner stopped by to see how I was doing. I gave him accolades about the food and service, and asked apologetically for him to kick me out, if he needed the seating. He smiled and said they’re open till 4:00. He lied, they close at 2:30, but his heart was in the place he liked. After my wife’s procedure, she was craving French fries. So, we stopped by this little gem of a restaurant. I ran in ordered some fries. When they came out of the kitchen, he handed me the box and a muffin. He didn’t want to charge me for any of it! I told him, “no, here’s $5. I’ll feel better supporting a great business.” He begrudgingly accepted the money, then said, “I have a rule to put people before business.” I smiled and told him I’d be back. My wife loved the fries, too.
This encounter reinforced something that I have been thinking about for a while. And, that is, how the pursuit of money can be poison.
Over a year and a half ago, I decided to start a little online store with books and other goods that could support people interested in complex living systems, learning, teaching, and inquiring. These kinds of stores require no particular investment and no inventory. You provide links to the goods, and you get a commission on the sales. “Easy enough,” I thought. It was a lot of work putting the store together. And, once together, it required regular attention. Once this store went ‘live,’ a subtle change descended upon me. Every encounter with a friend or new acquaintance slowly became an opportunity to draw in a new customer. After a while, I noticed that I was thinking about how to promote my store, when I was having deep and immensely interesting conversations with people. Resentment started to build, as friends did not help me promote my store. I was turning into a money-monster.
So, I decided to scrap the store altogether. “Screw it,” I said to myself, “it is not worth the loss of relationships.” Just as I made this determination, a friend sent me a note about how wonderful my bookstore was. “Nice, but yuck!” So, I made a determination. I dumped all of the store items, except books, which are one of my loves. And, I repeated over and over again to drill it into my head that, “I don’t care if anyone ever buys a book from this store. I’m just going to leave it here as a service. And, I’ll just buy books from my own store. And, that’s all okay.”
Working for money is one thing. My father labored in a factory most of his life. I’ve worked in all kinds of jobs, including factories, retail, real estate, and then schools and universities. People who work at some occupation earn money, which usually is not enough to live on. But, it is honest work in which one is compensated. The real estate job I had was not one of them. That was my first introduction to the poison of money. Commission sales, running your own business, and the big corporate money contexts carry a huge potential for the pursuit of money poisoning one’s own psychological state and all of the relationships one has. The little restaurant owner I described did not allow his business to undermine his caring for relationships. I have known a few business owners like this, but they certainly do not seem to be in the majority.
However, there is even a sense of money as poison among working class people. But, it is a different sort of poison. Living paycheck-to-paycheck is difficult. If we find ourselves in this sort of position, we are always under stress. Such stress can affect our relationships and our senses of self-worth. This poison is more insidious in many ways. It eats away at the core of our beings. And, those people living in extreme poverty, including the homeless, are experiencing another type of money-poison. The poison of having no or not nearly enough money to survive. The effects of this situation are beyond terrible. No human being should have to live like this, no matter what the circumstances.
Wars are fought over money. Wars make some corporations huge amounts of money. Crimes are committed for money… either out of greed or desperation. Marriages and other relationships fall apart over money. And, misery is propagated over money.
The question we all need to ponder is “how can we not allow the toxicity of money to ruin our relationships, our society, and our global community?”