I’d Rather Make A Poor Man’s Dollar Than A Rich Man’s Mistakes
I’d rather make a poor man’s dollar than a rich man’s mistakes.
If money is supposed to lead to happiness, than why have I never been more content than in my most desperately thin times? Its amazing what we gain when we lose the right things.
I can see the horizon while looking out my window on the drive home. Long days, it always looks the same. It’s always just over to my right, at the edge of the day, and it always seems to beckon me to it, to take a closer look to see if what I dream up is just beyond it; on the other side of these long days.
If being rich would take me there, perhaps I might go. What’s there to lose once you finally have it all?
But if being happy meant never again seeing this side of the horizon, after long days, out the right side, where my dreams are dreamed with those who I’d want in them, I might hesitate. If I’d have to give up understanding and empathy, that we should be measured by our efforts not our results, I’d pause and look back.
If arriving on the other side of that horizon; where days are easier, but valuing others becomes forgettable; I’d rethink my change of view. If it meant my shared dreams with those who matter, would be replaced with my every want at any cost, and their dreams would crumble, I’d turn back.
If It meant I would forget what dreaming felt like, what helping did for my soul, what grace did for my heart, what love did for my view; I think I’d choose to stay right here. I’d choose to keep looking out at the horizon on my right side, after another long, satisfying day of being happy with enough.
I’d choose to lose all the right things that beckon me just beyond the other side of that horizon, if it meant gaining my perspective.
There are no greater riches than the love in my life. Than the kindness I can show, the understanding I can give, or the dreams that I share. No dollar can buy that kind of beautiful view.