Every morning when my alarm goes off and I drag myself out of bed and into the shower, barely awake and extremely groggy, I wonder: Why am I not independently wealthy?
What, you may ask, would I do if I were? The answer: everything.
I would take classes in college just for the fun of it — to learn all there is to learn about all the things I’m interested in. I would study art history, anthropology, psychology, sociology, religion, philosophy, science (I’m especially fascinated by physics) and anything else that caught my fancy.
I would travel the world, spending a month at a time in Ireland, England, Spain, France, Italy, Greece, Russia, Poland, Germany — wherever the wind blew me — and then I would do it all over again and again until I had seen all there was to see and done all there was to do. I’d go to San Francisco and Boston and Chicago and Vermont and Maine and New York City. I’d probably never again set foot in Florida. But I’d travel all around Georgia. I’d spend weeks, maybe even months, meditating at the New York state waterfalls, each and every one of them.
I’d lock myself in an isolated cabin in the woods in New England somewhere in the middle of winter for months and write and write until there was nothing left to write. I’d spend a week at the beach every once in a while. I’d never go to Disneyworld again, in any country. I’d stay up all night, laying under the stars on a clear night in a field far from any artificial light. I haven’t seen the night sky away from street lights in more years than I care to think about.
I’d open an animal shelter and take in every creature, great and small, and save all their precious little lives.
I’d spend endless amounts of time with the people I love most and make sure none of them ever had to struggle again.
I’d learn to ski, and not just on the bunny hill. I’d go to the theater or the ballet every night.
I wouldn’t live in a large house. I’d buy an old Victorian (or older) somewhere beautiful and fill it with antiques.
I would never again spend eight hours sitting in an office in a cold, thankless building doing something I don’t love just to pay the bills.