I was rereading some of my older blog comments today. Sabra commented on a post saying that we should make good on our old plans to go to Ireland together sometime. I enthusiastically answered “I’d just need six months’ notice to save up the money. It’s kind of cool to be at that point in my life where I could legitimately be like, ‘Ireland? Sure!'”
I truly don’t have any idea what point in my life I was talking about. Retirement maybe?
Time and money seem to be the two ever-scarce commodities. And most things seem to cost both. Time spent the way we wish costs money, and the price of money, strange as it sounds, is our time. I dearly wish that I could get along without money, because then I could spend time doing the things I actually care about. But money is, as we have said, tied to time. And society is tied to money. And I, in turn, am fairly tied to this society.
So this is the albatross around my neck.
“I never thought money would be so important. I never wanted it to be.” I wrote that in my journal not too long ago. Then just the other day I got into a conversation along these same lines with a customer while I was serving samples of gazpacho at work (spending time to make money). I told him my conclusion about time and money being the ever-scarce commodities. “Yes,” he agreed, “You’re right, but that doesn’t matter. You have to live anyway.”
“I know, but the older I get, the more I worry that I’ll always be lacking the time or the money to do the things I’ve always wanted to.”
We chatted some more, and before he left, he offered me a piece of advice, saying “Let me tell you something. Make the time, and spend the money. Or else you’ll never do anything at all.”