Delilah Wood stopped in on Money or Emotional Honesty, and found my regard for money pretty disrupting. Here’s how she commented the blog post.
I’d strongly recommend re-evaluating your relationship to money. Money is just another form of energy exchange; it’s not evil in its own right. Like power, it can corrupt, but if not seen as a zero-sum game, it can be healthy as well. It also happens to be the currency our current society uses to get along, much like sheep or wheat or strings of beads used to be. It’s no more anti-love than a handful of beans is anti-love. The sooner you recognize that money is just a form of energy and that there’s plenty of it to go around, it will start flowing toward you in exchange for all the things you love to do.
As I described in my blog post Money, Self-Worth and Lutheran Work Ethics, I don’t have a quarrel with money as such, that would be ludicrous. It’s the exhange that I find exceedingly bothering. When you bring money into the equation, it sifts things. Honesty becomes a performance. Much like readership and knowing about your readers sifts the focus of the writer. I am well aware of the way our society uses ruthless commercialism, and how in our times branding yourself is the wisest thing to do if you want success. Everything should be for sale. But what if it isn’t?
My choices in this matter are made by trying to find a way to stay honest. That is the way I have chosen to do my work in my real life also. I am (no longer) letting them feed out of my fragility. The steaming redhot reality that everyone wants a piece of. I have much higher goals, and I will keep them only if I manage to stay unhinged.
I am a writer, and so could be (and have been) paid a lot of money writing these things I now write for free. I choose to stay honest. I choose it every day. It is only possible for me now by staying hidden, under the covers of a blog by a pet name. I have chosen to have a second career as an educator rather than submit myself to the demands of commercialism. I have made a career out of what I want, like and tend to lean to, as you suggest (overtly positively) and I’ve noticed how the demand is narrowing what is allowed, wanted and expected. How it should be written, what it should be about and how am I, as writer of it all, seen in the eyes of the public.
I have decided to not go down that road, after all. I’ve decided to stay out of it, save what little I have that is irreplaceble. My view, my world, my soul. I am not selling myself anymore. I am not even selling my words. What I write, I write for free. (Most of it, anyway.) I’m not dependant on how I’m selling anymore. I have a job, and I’m good at it.
If I write, I write because it is something I have to do. Not because I have bills to pay, readers to please or critics to win over. And I am happy about it.