"rich" isn't any kind of measure...

an overcast day here in the ugly south. a warm wind blows, barely stirring the stagnant grey film that is suspended, like a body from a hangman's noose, in the thick moist air. there is the promise of storms and the whirring buzz of insects, and an uneasy feeling of weight upon the shoulders, a feeling of pressure from an unseen source. these days everything feels like a sign of trouble, even the trembling of curled brown leaves on sweating tree limbs. each conversation leads to contested definitions from flawed sources, each idea is twisted by ideology and agenda, each thought barely and rarely tested for truth. as the wind blows and the dark clouds gather every narrowing of the eyes is a call to war.

but there is still truth in the world, there do still exist honest answers, actual tangible realites that cannot be debated, cannot be altered to fit a predetermined purpose. there is the seeking nature of the human animal, desperate as long as his existence, to find meaning, to discover joy, to explore the mysteries of life and understand our purpose as concious, sentient beings on a glowing blue rock in the middle of a desolate black void. there is the desire for the bond between parent and child, the connection between man and woman, the coming together of good friends that can be called love, this selfless joining of humanity for something greater than themselves, something intangible.

throughout history, there is, and has been, much that drives us as humans. there is much that divides and seperates us as well. most of us want to "make a mark" of some kind, and if we don't, we are satisfied with merely passing thru, hopefully trying to do no real harm as we go (though there are always exceptions to anything). and we all define that "mark" differently; some of us seek a measure of enlightenment from our time here, a better understanding of ourselves and our place in a cold and uncaring universe, a greater depth of empathy and compassion with our fellow human beings and some hope for the future of all things. some of us hope to create great works of art that elucidate the complexities of the human condition, art that explores our suffering natures and our inextinguishable endurance in the face of our inevitable mortality, art that sets out into the desert with no water, confident in the inexplicable outpouring of creativity from the ether. some of us hope to raise families full of good people who contribute to society: tradesmen, craftsmen, teachers, leaders, police officers, firefighters, hard working men and women who make up the teeming legions that keep civilization functioning, who perform the necessary tasks to keep everyone safe, secure, educated and as happy as is possible.

and some of us, ridiculously, hopelessly, stupidly, desire to get rich.

now there are those out there who are going to immediately argue that getting rich is a boon to all the above activites, that money is a motivator in many many aspects of life, that we all have to make a living and pay our bills, etc. etc. endlessly. I agree with the premise that in the world as we find it, we do have to have some money, we do have to pay our bills. but getting rich as an end unto itself is a load of shit.

none of the situations above require an obscenity of wealth, and most of them require nothing in the way of vast sums of money, money that will be spent in the service of either consumerism or the generation of still more income. and what do we all want out of life anyway? happiness? safety? comfort? what? none of these can be purchased, even safety. hell, there is no avoiding death, no matter how hard we try, no matter the money we aquire, no matter the fortified walls we construct. there is nothing for it. so safety's out. comfort? sure you can buy a hundred soft couches but you can only sit on one at a time. anything else is for the benefit of other people, anything large scale is so others can envy your aquisitions, your things, your stuff. and that may satisfy in the short term, you can gloat about your "success," feel good about "making it."

but what happens when your wife dies? what happens when your kid gets leukemia? what happens when your livlihood is ripped from you by forces you can't control with any amount of money? where do you go for that comfort, that safety, that happiness? do you turn to your dollars, your investments, your property? will that bring any solace when your heart is broken? will a life spent in service to the concept of money be fulfilling if you've never experienced love? if you've ever sat in silence and marveled at the mystery and impossibity of each sunrise, vastly different from the one which preceeded it and totally unlike the new dawn to follow, how do you compare the gain of another dollar in the totality of your life to such an experience of actually living?

and for those who are unafraid of death via the religion gamble, you must be aware that money has NOTHING to do with why you are unafraid; you have a spiritual confidence in something greater than you, something that is outside the influence of men, and of human trivialities. like money. and money, throughout the history of organized religion, has been a corrupting force, not unifying, a force that makes it possible to control the message of a religion. and of course, numerous examples exist in the secular world of the leader/follower/innocent fellow just trying to get ahead being felled by greed and corruption, hell, just see ENRON for an example (if you need a link here, stop reading this and go away).

so what have I expended this much space to say? just this: there are measures of a life well lived, a life spent fully alive in service to the very mystery of our humanity, a life aware of the fragility of our perch here spinning around a ball of fire in the darkness. there are ways to recline on our death beds and be assured of that good life lived, and none of them include being "rich;" no one will think, "boy I wish I could have got one more dollar" or "I'm glad I spent every moment at my job" and you can bet if that is how they think, they lost a lot more than they gained. the old saw "you can't take it with you" is a cliche for a reason. but what you can take with you are the experiences, the memories, the loves that burned, the pain of loss, that hand you hold as you pass away from the material into the real unknown. these intangibles will be more real than any house, any yacht, any limo, more real than anything made and sold by men.

I know that money can do good in the world, just as it can be bent to the will of the savage. it's a tool that reflects its holder. that's not the point. the point is, being rich isn't any kind of measure of a life well lived. it's no "goal" to have. your goals may include family, happiness, safety, peace, long life, and so forth but again, money cannot be what defines your time here. we do what we must to pay our bills and keep ourselves alive, but is the pursuit of large sums of such a meaningless concept as money (I mean, under the right circumstances, wouldn't the barter of goods and services among dedicated craftspeople with specialties the others lack be just as effective for maintaining a community or a society? wouldn't you be able to eat and clothe yourself and your family, build a shelter, etc.? the necessities?) a worthwhile goal?

money is easy. ask any poker player. they'll tell you that money is just a stack of colored clay chips worth nothing. it is the life away from the table that is hard. and the most rewarding.

more later...