Friday, May 31, 2013

If money were no object...

I could live here:

Casey Key, Florida
 with a wonderful view of the Gulf of Mexico, with dolphins playing in the water as the sun set on another day filled with love and laughter and Seabreeze cocktails. 
Wickenberg, AZ
I might also have a house here.  Maybe an adobe ranch, with Mexican brick accenting the walled adobe courtyard, with a big fountain and lots of desert mountain flowers.  Nothing too big. 

Unless, I wanted a bead room/studio that looked like this:
This is actually a library.  In someone's home.

Most of all, I want to learn to live like money is no object.  Because it isn't.  Money is NOT the object of my existence.  And I know that focusing on money - the lack of - only makes it more difficult to draw money to me.

Money does not define who I am.  Hence, being a PhD student at the age of 51.  With the knowledge that I will have to create a career outside of academia because there is little chance that I would ever be hired for a tenure track position and an even slimmer chance that this position would entail the kind of researching/writing/teaching I envision and enjoy.

So, I am practicing living as if money were no object.  In my head, I can have the properties above.  Or, more closely to my dreams, I have a small piece of property on which J and I have a healing center: a place where people (but mostly women, since most desperately need a space like this) can come to do art or write or just get away and think. 

I imagine this as an overhaul of a old motel/hotel, with the rooms rehabbed with bright colored paint and funky furniture mixed with antiques, with a courtyard in the center for gatherings and movie showings.  The center offers art classes and, of course, has a small bead shop, where all sorts of fabulous beads and textiles and ephemera is sold.  We have weekly farmer's markets, where local produce is sold alongside art and music and food.  In the same building as the bead shop, there's offices set aside for massage therapists and alternative healers to use.  And studio spaces.  And a big community art room, fully stocked with supplies for all sorts of art mediums.  There's a big kitchen, for cooking community meals for the groups that rent out the center for events.  There's a fire circle.  And an orchard of fruit trees.  Solar and wind energy are used to power everything.

This is the dream of the future that I have that keeps me awake at night, with longing.  With the excitement of possibility.  Until I think about money: or, more accurately, the lack of. 

What would you do, if money were no object?


  1. What an amazing, awesome idea!

    If money were no object, I'd spend the rest of my days learning things. All kinds of new things -- shoe making, trapeze, foreign languages, sign language. And I'd work on crazy multi-disciplinary projects without worrying about making money off of them.

    I'd also have about five studios/rooms for my various interests. This little red couch is making me claustrophobic!

    Happy belated birthday, by the way!!!!! Sorry I missed it. I was trapped under a dog (in other words, puppy sitting).

    1. Yes to always always always learning. Just yesterday, I discovered that I'm feeling passionate about researching the Colorado River. And there's so many things I want to learn to make!

      I hear you on the studio. I can't find room for a separate studio, but will paint and re-organize my bedroom as soon as this semester is over. I MUST HAVE a writing space that's more functional. And a happier color than faintly blue smugged.

  2. I would sign up for school, again, in the next year or two and take really interesting classes.

    I would buy a big apartment in New York City. I would rent getaway homes on the beach, in the mountains, somewhere in Europe, for a few months.

    I might finally learn to sail.

    I might buy e-versions of my paperback books and hardback fiction, but maybe not.

    I would be more generous.

    I would not be any happier than I am now, but I would be a lot more comfortable.

  3. KJ, excellent ideas! I'd love to spend about 3 months in NYC, going to all of the art museums. I think I could live in the Met for at least a month and still not see everything.

    Have you thought about community college? Definitely an affordable way to start? Or contacting instructors of classes that sound interesting, to see if you can sit in.

  4. I would try to make sure my son would never experience homelessness or hunger in the future. I feel like the generation growing up now faces enormous financial uncertainty.

    What I see as the basic problems in our society (such as the increasing unequal distribution of wealth and the dysfunctional health care system) are too immense to tackle directly. So, I think I would find people and organizations that encourage and support creative grass roots solutions for their communities and give money to them. I would love to be able to fund people/organizations involved in promoting buy local and upcycling. I would create after school art programs for kids and commission murals. I would support the kind of community you envision, a place where the ground is fertile to support ideas that nurture individuals and the planet. I would give money to homeless people.

    Oh, and I would quit my job.

    1. Oh, Liz. I so agree. Since I teach about social issues, I can easily get bogged down, overwhelmed by all of the inequality.

      I think that's why it's so important for people to go after their goals, regardless of how much money might be in their pockets. And to actively support like-minded projects.

      It's individuals that will make big changes. Probably with limited amounts of cash, but extra abundance of love.