Seems it’s the day for profound revelations.
For most of my life I just haven’t had much time for money. I didn’t see the point of stockpiling it, I didn’t see the need for anything other than paying the rent, eating and odd bits of entertainment. I saw how it could corrupt and the effects it had on relationships so I’ve studiously avoided it in large quantities for a while now. Perverse, perhaps, but true.
The reason: It had no use to me.
I’m fairly ruthless in my life these days. Everything in my life needs to have a use – having lived in enough small homes, you get that way. If you stockpile stuff it means you can’t get into the kitchen for breakfast. You can’t get out of your house or even into it for that matter. I don’t like the idea of the McMansion, the huge sprawling house in darkest suburbia, I prefer compact, simple and neat.
Perhaps this has been my problem all along with money?
Anyway, so here’s the revelation that’s come from last night’s thinking.
The reason it had no use is because I had no reason for having it. If I’m not prepared to stockpile then there’s no point having it, is there?
Well there is if I have a goal in mind for it.
And now I have some goals. Neat!