Gold and money are only worth something because we say it is. Becoming rich is many people’s greatest aspirations in life. But why? “Because you can buy things!” However when you look at our lives and when you look at the world…money really won’t help you. Money controls our lives. Pieces of paper have essentially become more important than human life itself. People shape their growth as a human being around money. A rich man gets stranded on a desert island and he doesn’t have anything but the clothes on his back (all of his money has been blown up with the aircraft that he was flying on his way to Hawaii for a much needed vacation from making money). Does money help him now? Scratch that…the man does have his money, he managed to save it at the last minute. He’s stranded on an uninhabited desert island with millions of dollars. What does he do now? He looks at his piles of money, his greatest achievement in life, the envy of all his friends. He sees paper. The man has learned no survival skills in his profession of making piles of dough from exploiting unskilled laborers in order to make a profit. He does not know how to make a fire…the only way his money could possibly help him in this situation. What does he do? He has spent all of his life developing a company in order to make this money, rather than developing himself. His family? no family. His home? empty. His company? in the hands of a younger, more vibrant businessman. Who is this man? the truth of the matter is…he doesn’t know. The only thing this man had going for him was his name…which is currently being taken down from the company building to be replaced by the younger more vibrant businessman. He still has his name…but it is now empty. Before his name was a glass jar filled with money, “success,” doorways and connections. It was jam-packed with strategies that would get him money by any means necessary. His jar was filled with pompous talk and false promises. It was flooded with all of his business and financial accomplishments. But now the man’s jar is empty…the cap fell off while he was stranded in the ocean. The ocean filled his glass jar with seawater, scraping away every last bit of his name’s insides, leaving only a hollow exterior. Now what? The man has a name…but nothing inside. His name does not mean anything on this desert island. He needs to fill up this jar again…he needs a NAME! He teaches himself how to make a fire, burning all of the paper that is in front of him. He learns how to climb trees and get coconut milk, and bananas. His expensive clothing gets torn apart, which actually suits the man better in this scorching heat. He learns to weave a roof from the leaves of the tropical trees. His jar is being filled up again very slowly…but this time with different things. He explores the island and finds a waterfall in which to drink and creates a tree house out of wood, branches and palms. He knows every inch of the island, every insect. He begins to study the stars at night and creates a calendar for himself. He learns the constellations and creates his own names for them all. He learns bird calls and tends to the species, his only companion on the island. His jar is more full and more colorful than it has ever been. After some time a plane arrives and the younger, more vibrant businessman in a suit finds the man up in his tree house carving figurines out of the trees with a carver he made out of stone. “Hey you! We found you! Its time you come back to the company, we need your skills!” The man is confused. The name the man is calling him, thats not his name. The name he has now does not know about business or stocks or finances. The man is reluctant to go, but the businessman takes him on his private jet and they fly away, all the while the man is looking out the window for his tree house, the greatest possession he’s ever had. He goes back to his mansion, goes back to his job and puts back on his clothes. Where are his birds? Where are his rags? Where is his tree house. The man looks at the piles of money in his house…the piles of paper. He doesn’t understand. He knows that this paper is worth something that hell never be able to understand again. He gives this paper to a maid and she becomes very happy…does this paper do something that he’s not aware of? Does it have magical powers that when it touches someone it makes them super happy? He holds and examines the paper…nothing. He puts the paper against his face..nothing. He pushes harder…still nothing. He stops trying. He knows this paper makes people happy so he knows that if he gives this paper to someone they might just do something for him in return. He uses all of his paper to get on a plane, and flies back to his island. He goes to his tree house and continues to carve the figurine that he was carving before. His birds come to join him. He can’t help but think that he is the winner. He has everything that he will ever need in the whole world right in front of him…and everyone else just has paper.
© 2012 elissa
