I have been thinking lately about what it means to live a rich life.
Not rich in assets or monthly income necessarily, although that is all very nice, but rich in the things that fill me and make me feel nurtured and cared for, things that give me hope and purpose.
I’ve heard financial influencers and gurus chide people who spend money on a daily Starbucks latte. “If you saved that $6.50 a day and invested it in a retirement account that earned eight percent interest, then in 40 years you would have one billion dollars!”
(They do not say that exactly, but something close.)
Except what if that daily latte is the thing that makes them feel like their life is rich? Is it a foolish purchase then? I used to think so. But now I am not so sure.
For me, it’s little things that make my life rich. My daily tea with cream makes me feel rich, and luckily for me it’s something I can make at home. Free time during the week to hike with my daughter when she was home for an unexpected few days makes me feel rich. Also, possessing the things that make hiking possible: sturdy boots, water bottles, food for a light lunch that we eat while sitting on a rock at the side of a lake.
A kitchen table to write at. A blanket on my lap. A dog on the blanket at my feet. Blackberry flavored sparkling water. A fire in the woodstove. Wood stacked and covered not far from my backdoor. My garden, which produced enough tomatoes and basil to keep us in pesto and salsa all season long. A quilt my grandmother made. An afternoon out with one of my best friends from high school, and the fact that we have been friends for forty years. My centering prayer circle, time with my spiritual director, online groups that support me in my spiritual journey, my work as a massage therapist.
Also, a phone call I got today from my daughter in Costa Rica, with special gratitude for the miracle of Wi-Fi and how it lets us talk to people half a world away, basically for the price of an ordinary phone plan. Later, there was a phone call from my son, who was wondering if it would be a problem that he accidentally started the wrong dryer when he went to finish his laundry, and it locked, and could that possibly start a fire if the lint trap was full? I reassured him that I did not think there was any way that a dryer running for a few minutes without clothes in it would be a danger to his dorm building.
I wish that all of my children’s worries were so easily put to rest.
I don’t have a regular 9-5 job. I haven’t had one in years. I know my bank account would be fatter, that I would be monetarily richer if I had spent the last few decades working one of these, if I would have had more of a stable career. One of my dear friends who started teaching at basically the same time I did retired this past year with nearly 30 years in the classroom. If I had stayed for more than three years, I would be getting close to retirement, too.
It was a difficult decision, to quit teaching to go to massage school, to set out on a different path, but I’m glad I did. I graduated from massage school right before my children were born. After they came along, my husband and I arranged our work schedules so that one of us was almost always with them. I cared for them during the day and did massages at the spa in the evenings after he was home. My work was part-time without the benefit of a retirement plan, but it helped pay the bills and didn’t make me sick to my stomach, which is how I felt during much of my teaching career. I cannot imagine having missed all those hours with my children. I am especially grateful, now that they are off making their own lives, that I made that choice. I do not criticize parents who choose differently; I just did what was right for me. My years with my children filled me with a different, beautiful richness.
There is more to a rich life than money. Money is important to a point; it’s hard to live in our world without it. But after you have enough to meet basic needs? Maybe the sweet spot is to have enough but not too much. Too much doesn’t necessarily make life rich. It can make it heavy, cluttered, busy. So I’m grateful tonight for all that is making my life rich. Which doesn’t mean that I don’t need to be saving for retirement. I do! But in the meantime? It’s nice to know that life, as it is, is already rich, already beautiful.
3 Comments
I loved both your and Martha’s takes on what makes for a rich life. Beautiful.
I am lucky enough to have a rich life of modest means. What a luxury to have time for those around me. I’ve always believed there’s a balance to all things, but finding that balance, and then maintaining it, can be very challenging. I find it helps to be grateful everyday, which you and Martha are too. I work hard not to take anything for granted, especially since everything in life is fragile and fleeting.
Balance also means there is a point when enough is enough and more is not needed. It’s human to always be seeking “more”, it’s the barometer for success in the US, but “more” is also elusive. As you say, finding what’s right for you is the key.
What a gift to come to the point in your life where you can say, “I have enough and I am enough.”
As always Robin, an enjoyable, thoughtful read. I look forward to Ordinary Holy each Sunday morning. Your writing and a good cup of coffee; now that’s a blessing. Rick
Yes, it’s not “the money” that makes life rich.
Neither of my children has decided to have children, and for opposite reasons. Both live several states away, in different directions. But here where I am, there are plenty of young single moms who need help and support, and I volunteer with a program that offers them support. So while you could say I have no grandchildren, there are nine children who need my positive support in their life, and so I step in with a word here and an afternoon there. It’s not the same as “blood family ties,” but it is a positive and loving influence.
In the course of all this, I found myself spending quite a bit of time with a two-year-old little girl whose daddy is in the hoosegow dealing with his DUIs. Her step mom works very, very hard every day cleaning houses and waitressing. The step mom knew the daddy only about six months before his forced absence, and ended up with a child with no “papers.” Which means no “regular” day care. So there’s me.
The little girl has two perfectly good grandparents, but they want nothing to do with the child. The grandfather spends his days “tending to his investments online,” and forbids his wife, the toddler’s real grandmother, from taking the child in. So they have missed how she has learned to talk, how she does her art with a colored pen in both her left and her right hands. They miss her hugs, and how when the car she’s in arrives at a place she knows and likes, she shouts, “YAY!!!” They miss when her feet need bigger shoes, and how she negotiates stairs with the best of them. They are missing a universe of richness, but hey. They are “tending to their investments.” This little girl is my and her step mom’s investment, and I think ours is the richer one.