We don’t need much to be comfortable. It’s worth remembering that. There’s so much encouragement thrown at us to seek more and more and more. I am coming to the conclusion that the only really good reason to accumulate wealth is against bad health or to help others. The likes of Prince Philip and Rupert Murdoch are using it to keep themselves alive. Money is no object for them or they’d both probably be out by now. They are ekeing out their existences, sustained by the blood of virgins or the hidden cure for cancer, or injections of liquid money or just not having to constantly worry about where food is coming from. I wish they were doing more to help redistribute wealth, but they probably labour under the assumption that they deserve what they have and that everybody else is somehow less valid. That’s a hardwired upbringing fault in many people. It takes a lot of overcoming.
All of that aside, I’ve been living out of a rucksack for a few weeks and I’ve been fine. Admittedly the generosity of friends has sustained me hugely in Manchester – first Charlotte and then Robin and Amy. I couldn’t easily pay my way but I will repay their generosity when I’m able. I took a badly paid job (which still hasn’t shelled out) and I let someone stay in my room for free. It was a delight to do both, and a blessing for me and my friend, but I probably should have done the maths. As usual I chased the joy.
Now I’m back home surrounded by my stuff again and I’m glad to be here. But I’m very conscious of being crowded in by past memories – by objects and clothing that I associate with early prototypes of me – by things that were valuable to my parents but not to me at all. I am finally understanding that the next logical step in what I consider to be my evolutionary process is to move from this flat. I’ve been told that countless times. It’s starting to hit home. Then I could perhaps have the money to pay for any medical shit when I start crumbling, or for dating attractive people who might expect things to be paid for, or even for maintaining horrible little screaming shitmachines that grow up hating us. Or for friends in need.
Meantime – I made a bit of cash today interviewing someone. Enough to keep me liquid, just. She’s a Russian technology saleswoman, and one of the most highly qualified human beings I’ve ever met. Her CV – although it needs trimming – is a hymn to her summa cum laude education in St Petersburg and London, and her incredible unstoppable work ethic. She’s personable, smart and brave. She’s working with a friend of mine who helps business people reach their full potential, and my friend realised it would help her confidence – which is a weak spot despite her qualifications – if she had a mock interview. So I sat in a beautiful office in Chancery Lane and interviewed her one on one.
In two years time she’ll have more money in the bank than I’ve ever seen but at least I’ve helped her overcome some blocks on the way to that. Sometimes I wonder what might have been if I’d taken everyone’s advice and gone chasing that dolla. But usually, in my strange cluttered creative bubble, I feel pretty happy. And I still believe that I’m only one meeting away from great change. So long as I don’t get expensive-sick in the meantime, I’m looking ahead.