It would seem that greed has become the bane of my
existence. I’m fundamentally disconnected from whatever impulse it is that
perpetually drives the inability for people to be happy with what they have. The
desire for more just doesn’t resonate with me. I don’t “want” anything. I’d
like more money but only so I can get out of debt and not so I can move to a
big house or make my car into some gaudy flashy abomination, or even to trick
out my wardrobe into some obscene pastiche of color and designer labels. I don’t
need it. My great aunt used to impress upon me the difference between wants and
needs. She endlessly sought to instill in me that there were things worth
saving for such as car repairs, emergency medical services, etc. and then there
were wants that could and should be relegated to a back seat position and
regarded only when the disposable income was available.
I find myself in the unique position currently
where everyone around me is speaking of and placing importance around the idea
of planning for some idealized career situation in which they have total
autonomy and want for nothing. One friend in particular made a proclamation
some years ago in which he stated his intention to be a millionaire by the time
he was thirty. With only a couple of years left before his deadline arrives, he
had indicated that he’s on track to fulfilling this goal. Now given that I generally
get by on a shoe string budget and still manage to have enough spare cash to
help out those in need, the question for me is why anyone would need this much
money? It serves no real purpose, it doesn’t enrich life in any real way and it
doesn’t contribute to the content of one’s character. It’s ones and zeroes that
are given arbitrary value and allow for the exchange of goods or services that
are ostensibly of a quality that will somehow elevate the purchaser to a
station or position of betterment and recognition. I listen to the rhetoric as
it’s espoused, and I can’t help but feel indifferent or disgusted at the
importance placed on money.
Given that I’m not too far from turning thirty,
myself, I listen to all of these lofty ideas, intentions of taking off and
going to Paris or some other exotic location to relax and indulge, and I can’t
help but see it all as useless excess. It seems that everyone these days wants
to travel, they want to see the world and take in what they believe to be some
grand experience. Now I can’t and won’t decry travel or exploration. I’ve never
left the country, I’ve never wanted to. That’s not to suggest that I’m some die
hard, overly patriotic idiot that clings to the stars and bars as though they
are the only true herald of prosperity and truth in the world, rather I recognize
that on the whole, my interest in visiting another part of the globe would be
unfulfilled given that my interests aren’t for sightseeing or taking copious
photos of some landmark or work of art, rather I seek to understand the place.
I would only go to one place in the world and it’s because of the history. And
I wouldn’t visit, I’d go and never return. But the common refrain these days
from most everyone in my age demographic seems to center on saving for the
future because of the myth that Social Security won’t be around when it finally
comes time to collect and that the greatest accomplishment one person can
achieve in their career aspirations is to become their own boss. Now regardless
of the goal, ultimately it seems to all come back to greed. This incessant need
to just need more, to never accept enough as being sufficient is sick.
Now I know that human beings are hard wired to
strive for more, to work toward achieving higher aims; it’s how we cultivated
culture, language, and produced civilization, but the things we work toward in
this society seems to just be material. A bigger bank account, a nice suit,
flashier clothes, a nicer car, a bigger house, a pet with a pedigree, a job
with a multi word and multi syllable title that comes with a corner office and
company expense account, and all of this is nice in theory but we define
ourselves by it. We actively believe that attaining these material or arbitrary
items and titles respectively will somehow enrich us as people. No one takes
the time to realize that even with a bank account that sports a seven figure
balance, a house that has taxes equating to more than I pay in rent for the
year, or a job title that can’t be translated into the native language of the
country where you multinational corporation is pillaging and raping the land,
you’re not made a better person. You’re still you. Nothing changed. Greed has
become the only reason to do anything anymore. The same tiresome refrain is
repeated today to kids just like it was told to me. Go to school and get good
grades so you can go to a good school and in turn get a good job. Why do you
need this “good job”? So that you can make obscene amounts of money and in turn
live a life of luxury. The equation seems a bit lopsided to me. I work myself
to the extreme of fatigue and exhaustion; I relegate myself to the bottom of
the list in terms of priorities and put everyone and everything else higher up.
I don’t intend to ever retire or shuffle quietly into a state of idleness and
uselessness. Leisure is great, insofar as you’re doing something to enrich
yourself, to better your character, cultivate your mind, or produce something
useful that will benefit the whole of mankind. Instead everything has a price
tag. Video games, spas, cars, movies, music, television, posters, trendy books,
comics, even the simple act of having a meal has some connotation of privilege
and prestige to go along with it. No one creates art for the sake of making
something beautiful, they want money for it. It’s all about compensation.
I find myself at odds on the mindset of achieving
a station in life where it’s acceptable to do nothing. We are the only species
on the planet that seems to actually buy into the belief that there’s an
imaginary quota to be filled before it’s socially acceptable to sit around and
let time pass us by. Every moment of every day should be spent doing something
that betters us as people. I’m a writer, or I like to dilute myself into
believing I am, and while I will indulge in movies, I listen to music
constantly, and on occasion I’ll read for pure enjoyment. What you don’t know
if all of this is speaking to me, it’s enlightening me, it’s informing me on
some small aspect of something. I’m cultivating an idea, a message, a missive,
a meaning, an understanding, or reaching for an epiphany from all of this. It’s
not just filling time, and that seems to be the aim for most everyone. Fill time
now by working and making money so you can fill time later doing nothing of any
importance to contribute or benefit the masses or yourself in any lasting way. Why
does anyone need so much money that they can buy land or personal aircraft? They
don’t need it, they want it. But their wants have become something to be
impressed upon the masses as things that everyone should aspire to obtain. I don’t
like flying to begin with, so the last thing I want is a private plane. I
really only work so I can pay my bills cover my expenses. I’m not saving up for
a big house, a new car, some expensive elective surgery, or even to go travel
to some far flung corner of the globe. Money changes people, and the pursuit of
money changes people even more. I will keep working until the day I die. And if
there comes a day where I’m told that I am no longer able to work or perform
the things that I find fulfillment in, that will be the day that I make my
grand exit from this plane. Idleness is uselessness. I dislike the feeling of
sitting around with nothing to do. If I’m ever sitting and staring blankly into
the expanse of the world, I assure you, I’m not just counting passing seconds, I’m
most likely working or fabricating some facet of a story I’m working on,
analyzing an interaction I’ve had with someone else and the conversation that
took place (questioning their word choice, tone, inflection, timing, pacing, behavior,
the focus of their eyes), or examining the nuances of some situation that I’m
seeking to get more control of. There are no idle moments for me. Every second
is spent doing something and it’s not for the pursuit of money or more “things”.
My car is falling from together, my apartment is
in a house that is rotting away on the foundation, my job has little to no room
for advancement and betterment in my career and I devote far too much of myself
to it for what pittance I actually get from it, but none of this matters. I’m
fulfilled. I earn enough to survive, the car keeps moving under its own power,
and the house remains standing. I don’t need any of the frills and accessories
that we’re told to want. I’m utilitarian to a fault, if it has no purpose, I don’t
want it. It has to do something, to better my existence in some way. If it can’t,
I don’t want it and I’m not interested. Now while I know the point might seem
murky in all of this, let me succinctly phrase it here: why is it so hard for people to just appreciate what they have?
I know there are those that will say I’m guilty of
this sin, and I won’t deny it, but I don’t seek to obtain more useless crap in
an effort to find contentment. I need fulfillment on a philosophical level more
than anything else. Perhaps I’m disconnected because I recognize that none of
this matters. In a few billions years all of our money will mean nothing, all
of our companies, our civilizations, our petty squabbles over land and beliefs,
all of it will mean nothing because the little rock we inhabit will be nothing.
In the grand scheme none of it means anything. So why can’t we just try our
best to revel in and appreciate the things we do have while we have them? Greed
drives us further from fulfillment because we always believe we need more,
nothing is ever enough and never will be. I’ll keep showing up to my job until I
die on the clock or they fire me because I can’t do it anymore. And if the
latter happens, it’ll be on that day that I’ll know I’m no longer of use on
this little rock and take my leave. I have to remain busy, to be useful, to
better the subjective experience of reality we all share instead of just trying
to accumulate useless and intrinsically worthless crap for the sake of saying
that I managed to get more than someone else. We’re all born into the world the
same way, naked, covered in slime, and screaming our heads off. We all go out
of it, none of us is above death or able to cheat it (except perhaps my father,
that man is harder than a coffin nail), so why should any one person have claim
or need of more pieces of paper assigned an arbitrary value than anyone else?
Kate Beckinsale, Keira Knightley, Channing Tatum, George Clooney, even the stuffed
shirts in congress all have the same thing in common. They’re human beings,
brought into existence on the same little blue orb and breathing the same air.
Sure they look different and have more money, bigger houses, nicer cars, and
whatever what have you, but they’re no better than me or you. They still bleed
the same, they will all die in due course, and once humanity has ceased to
endure, they will be forgotten. Enjoy life and what you make of it, you don’t
need more, you just need enough.
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