Money
By: Corliss Cheng
Tags: Self-awareness, Growing Up

Money

image by yours truly || I had believed maybe, there ought be drawn money trees

It’s no secret that our beliefs shape our reality. That the causal relationship of our existence with the planes of reality that we’re both a part of and apart from, stems first and foremost from our understanding and perception of it.

|| are you living, or are you dying? are you here experiencing the best the adventure of being alive can bring? or are you lamenting your day-to-day and awaiting for the ending of such a gift? are you living life like you love it — or are you, hmm.

For a long while, I’ve related money to be something given to me to appease the guilt of my parents. Hush money — in non-mob-terms speak. I was a very rich nine-year-old child (relative to my socio-economical-standing of course) because I knew to save, had little to spend on, and was given a sizable allowance because my parents were separated, had been separating, and I hardly had the consistency of being able to keep most of my money saved anyway because my dad (and a little of mom) treated us like their piggy banks. A deposit they make until a withdrawing we gave.

Next, I understood money to be something I could earn. Something I traded time and effort for. My reward, as it can be said, for doing something for others, for society, and I had been saving for a plane ticket whilst tucking away savings and nesting insurance policies like a sensible somebody. A just in case, was my staple, my motto for living. A, stable security I was building in case she(u) ever looked my way and needed me. I was, perhaps a model citizen of a capitalistic society and or too a lovelorn (unhealthy) romantic.

Moving ahead, I related money simply to the ability to buy gifts, to meet the requirements of rent, and to stock up on groceries. I was earning still, and spending rather loosely on boxes of potatoes (baby or normal), chocolate bars (a couple for me, most for others) and shortbread cookies (I caused an addiction and I fed it regularly), petrol and drinks (because I very nearly fell for a semi-alcoholic). I was amongst friends who felt a better version of family and I lived for the first time abroad as a functioning adult. I had savings in the bank, I kept emergency cash in an envelope in my locker (which paid for rent that one time pay was indeed delayed), and I had it altogether. There was time out and money in, there was money in and money out because people are delighted to receive gifts, and it snowballed maybe — the spending, especially when I faced grief and stopped trading my time and effort towards societal means and instead took to driving away my heartache and grief.

Still,

Awareness is the first step to change, and the relationship we have with a matter, with a person, with a thing or a situation, will affect the motivating of our relating, our progressing towards and or away from it.

And my goal’s to change thus the motivator because I quite like the idea of having again money to save, and it is indeed a resource for creating opportunities (and for paying rent, and for gifting gifts.)

|| you can take someone in, or take them out for a drive if need be; you can buy an over-sized fun-time floatation device, or you can have little packets of milo as an easy cheering; you can buy paper and paint with it — you can donate too, to charity and or build homes with it. It’s a resource — and I want more of it.

[Alternatively, we could just scrape it — the economic system as it is. Currently reading Doughnut Economics by Kate Raworth. I might put my money in this.]