The riches of inner lives
My favourite philosopher Allan Watts said that ‘money represents wealth in rather the same way that the menu represents the dinner.’ Which one do you want- the shiny menu or the actual dinner? A good dinner engages your body and your soul, with healthy food and good company. Such a dual nourishment happens if you take the time to cultivate your inner and outer lives. Success in contemporary society masquerades in the form of glossy menus, tilting the balance towards outer lives. It takes time to cultivate rich inner lives, but it pays dividends when you find yourself starving for life-giving interactions.
The goodness you sow when you engage in an inner dialogue with your own self, can be harvested anytime of the year.
I’m not suggesting that money can be dispensed with; I learnt the hard way how important money is for everyday survival. When I started my undergraduate psychology studies, I didn’t have a penny (or shall I say I didn’t have a single “koruna” because that was the currency back then in Slovakia). I arrived to London with a small suitcase full of determination to live my life on my own terms. I was eighteen and I didn’t know anyone in England. The studentship covered the university fees, so I needed to find a job to pay for my rent, food, books.
My first job was a cleaner in an Irish pub. I cleaned the toilets after the night parties (I could only do it on an empty stomach). I then “upgraded” to a waitress in a French restaurant, then to a shop assistant in Marks & Spencer, then to a multi-lingual customer service agent at EasyJet. My routine during my university studies was Monday-Thursday study/exam/study, Friday-Sunday work/sleep/work. I finished my Bachelor, Masters and PhD without debts, without any reliance on my partner or family, but I also lost the concept of weekend or “free time”.
Like many people with little money, I thought that money can give me freedom, access and mobility. And money can give you that, but only to a certain extent. There is a threshold above which money corrupts your thinking. Passing that threshold sends your brain into a spiral. You start hankering after something more and bigger, then something more and bigger than that what you had before, and then bigger and more than that etc. You inflict on yourself tasks and responsibilities which you wouldn’t need to have if those material possessions were distributed collectively. You start over-eating with the many choices on the menu, and that over-indulgence gradually shields you from the possibility of dialogue with others and your own body.
Me looking very “posh”.
When I am nearing my own (small) threshold, I catch myself thinking thoughts that escort me further and further away from my inner core. At that juncture, I need to flick over to the opposite spiral of giving away. By giving money and material things away I free myself from the tyranny of choice and I delegate the responsibility attached to ownership. I work with several charities that rely on small donations, so I know that giving away is beneficial for both the givers and recipients. The process of gradual giving away is of course what life is about. Practising it on the material as well as spiritual level of letting go, is a good way of calming the human fear of death.
I’m not afraid of dying. What keeps me up at night is child poverty. Systemic child poverty that disproportionately affects such a large number of population. Knowledge, and the research I do, give me power, and that power can be translated into systemic changes. Such changes do not happen overnight but they too, can be sown gradually, and harvested collectively.
Working with some of the poorest communities in Cambodia, Japan or inner London, I met some of the wealthiest people. Their life-stories were richer than those of the top businessmen I dined with. Partly because they were uncontrolled by material possessions and partly because they went directly to my core - there wasn’t that distance that money creates between people. It is in dialogue with unmaked-up faces and uncluttered minds that I find most nourishment. As Alan Watts knew so well, one does not need much to lead a meaningful life:
The meaning of life is just to be alive. It is so plain and so obvious and so simple. And yet, everybody rushes around in a great panic as if it were necessary to achieve something beyond themselves.
