For a Season

For a Season (1,143)

May 11th, 2011

For a season, I inherited a bunch of money and lived a life that some would consider “upper middle class.” It was most fortunate, because I was raising several sons at the time and launching a series of projects, including the founding of a symphony. Also, many of my friends were going through particularly difficult times and welcomed my assistance. I published, donated, became involved and criss-crossed the country nearly a dozen times, utilizing that financial blessing to the greatest degree that I could muster.

Unfortunately, because I was unable to replenish the kitty as fast as I spent it, it depleted. But not before I was able to launch many lives in new directions, graduate all my children and establish a sensibility about my talents and a pathway towards the multiplication of the same.

Then one day the season was over. I was back to being a mere mortal with a wallet instead of a treasure chest.

This came to my mind yesterday morning when we were packing up to head for another location on the road. I noticed a large, white envelope lying on the floor next to the trash can. The envelope had been given to me on Sunday morning—having contained the love offering donated by the generous folk. I had emptied the envelope the day before and had tossed it towards the trash can—obviously having missed.

So I was about to actually throw the envelope away when it crossed my mind to look inside. Now, during my season of financial security, I probably would not have looked inside. Why? I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I thought I already was blessed, so there was no reason to pursue blessing. Maybe it’s because at that time, a discarded envelope was just a discarded envelope. But since I am no longer “Mr. Dollar Bill” and have gone back to a bit of nickel-and-diming, I decided to peek inside the envelope—just in case.

When I reached in, there was a piece of what I thought was paper stiffed into the bottom corner—but it ended up being a twenty dollar bill. Tears came to my eyes. Not because I was twenty dollars richer and it was the seed for future financial prosperity. No—it’s because my life has now changed back to my being aware instead of indiscriminately using—assuming that the fruit will always be there. I also teared up because now twenty dollars means twenty dollars to me again. Yes, twenty dollars is a blessing instead of just chump change.

Most of us yearn to be better off than we are. We want to be healthier, wealthier and wiser. We never realize that the best way to be healthy is to be on alert for better ways to take care of ourselves. The better way to be wealthy is to appreciate what you’ve got and use it as effectively as humanly possible. And wisdom is the knowledge that everything has a season, so learn to enjoy the subtleties of each passing experience.

Money was nice because I could help people without having to wonder if I was going to be able to pay my mortgage. The lack of money is even nicer because the true value of what things are worth is more evident in each occasion. That twenty dollars, for instance, paid for my food for the day.

Ah-h-h. I get it.

“Give us this day our daily bread.”

Just something you don’t understand when you own the bakery.