This blog is supposedly about my efforts to earn £1 million in a year, yet seven months into the challenge, cash couldn’t be further from my mind. I have less work on my plate now and less money. Am I bovvered? Nope.
It struck me that what I most want from money is security. I got to thinking about why this is and the answer came to me in a flash. I am a masochist when it comes to work. I over service, under charge and generally try and punish myself wherever possible. As you may have read, I am one of those people who never takes a proper holiday. I figured that if I earn a certain amount of money, that will change.
With a £1 million security blanket I wouldn’t wake up in the early hours in a cold sweat (or a hot one at my age), wondering where the next cheque is coming from, I’d take long leisurely vacations and I wouldn’t worry about being fired all the time.
As I was listening to a book called The Five Invitations by Frank Ostaseski (he has such a soothing voice, I am glad I bought this one on audible), I realised that it wouldn’t make a difference if I had £1 million, £10 million or £100 million – I’d still find a reason to flagellate myself.
The problem lies within me and not my bank account. Yes, it would be nice to have ready cash, to be able to afford nice holidays and a new carpet, but frankly, if I wanted any of those things that badly I could have them. We have plenty of equity to spare.
What I am really seeking is a better way of living. I’d like to be more at peace with myself and find my purpose. I worry deep down that my calling doesn’t come with £ signs, although Jen reckons that anyone can make plenty of money doing the thing they love.
The truth is, money and I aren’t getting on great at the moment. We’re barely even talking. Still, I hope the make-up sex is good when it comes…
I am worthy.