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On Abundance
Reaction to Barack Obama's DNC Speech 07/28/2016 |
I don't mean to get all religious and woo-woo but seriously, I have to face up to the fact that every good thing in my life has been the fruit of prayer. Frankly, since I'm as worldly as anyone else is, I'm reluctant to admit it. I wish I could credit schools, people, parents, or government, but I can't.
I don't get inspired standing in line at the DMV. I get inspired in still, solitary moments of quiet contemplative prayer, often in nature, completely disconnected from civilization. I also get inspired in church. A lot.
Now, you who trust in government, let's think about this. I don't know about you, but I never received love or inspiration while standing in line at the post office or the DMV, have you? How about enlisting in the military? Was that a loving, inspiring experience? How about standing in line for anything?
You know, when things are financed with debt, there will always be lines because there's never enough to borrow, there's always scarcity.
But when you break out of that pattern into a place where things are financed with the income that results from productivity, it's an entirely different ball game. You stop thinking about minimums and begin to experience the overflowing cup. You begin to see beyond merely getting by or making ends meet; you begin to see surpluses and get excited about what you can do with them, which charities you can give to, how you can bless your parents, kids, and grandkids, your friends . . . even your enemies.
That's true hope, and what I'd wish for anyone.
The most financially successful people I've ever met are also deeply spiritual, contemplative, prayerful people. They don't have lofty educations, they haven't spent a lot of time hanging around the groves of academe. They pay more in taxes than most people earn each year. They're both inspired and inspiring. They give quietly to charity and volunteer their time as well. They love their families and their friends.
They usually have really interesting stories to tell involving incredible anguish, suffering, and poverty somewhere in their past. Somehow they or their forebears hit bottom, maybe stared death in the face, experienced some crisis that changed them forever and focused their attention on creating and continuing a perpetual upward spiral. Their zest for life is irrepressible and they have no time for the kind of habitual kvetching that the likes of Bernie Sanders squandered his sorry career doing.
(Frankly, some 30 years ago when I first began working in Economics, I shared Bernie's sentiments. I expected to have to hold my nose and deal with a lot of evil greedy people.
But I found I was wrong. As it turns out, I was the prejudiced bigot; I was the one who stunk; and, over time, I learned to repent and be illumined; and I'm still learning.)
They're salt of the earth, simple, and direct. They speak in broken grammar because they haven't spent a lot of time in classrooms, and I usually manage to resist correcting them. If I do manage to tactfully help them out, they're grateful. They pay me generously and don't quibble about minimums. They appreciate value and are eager to reward it because that's how they succeeded.
After more than two decades working as a full time, nonpartisan, professional Economist with rich and poor, right and left, male and female, coming myself from a lower middle class background, that's my testimony.
On final reflection, this shift in understanding changed my view of Economics itself, from "The Dismal Science" that presupposes scarcity with its Marshallian graphs of supply and demand, to The Hopeful Science that, with its understanding of inspiration and motivation, presupposes the kind of fractal, exponential abundance that, far from being some far-fetched "impossible dream", God shows us all the time in nature in every living thing from microorganisms, to plants, to animals, to people.
For every mouth to feed, there are also two hands and a limitless mind. When you work it right, that's a pretty wonderful ratio: a recipe for fractal abundance.
I don't get inspired standing in line at the DMV. I get inspired in still, solitary moments of quiet contemplative prayer, often in nature, completely disconnected from civilization. I also get inspired in church. A lot.
Now, you who trust in government, let's think about this. I don't know about you, but I never received love or inspiration while standing in line at the post office or the DMV, have you? How about enlisting in the military? Was that a loving, inspiring experience? How about standing in line for anything?
You know, when things are financed with debt, there will always be lines because there's never enough to borrow, there's always scarcity.
But when you break out of that pattern into a place where things are financed with the income that results from productivity, it's an entirely different ball game. You stop thinking about minimums and begin to experience the overflowing cup. You begin to see beyond merely getting by or making ends meet; you begin to see surpluses and get excited about what you can do with them, which charities you can give to, how you can bless your parents, kids, and grandkids, your friends . . . even your enemies.
That's true hope, and what I'd wish for anyone.
The most financially successful people I've ever met are also deeply spiritual, contemplative, prayerful people. They don't have lofty educations, they haven't spent a lot of time hanging around the groves of academe. They pay more in taxes than most people earn each year. They're both inspired and inspiring. They give quietly to charity and volunteer their time as well. They love their families and their friends.
They usually have really interesting stories to tell involving incredible anguish, suffering, and poverty somewhere in their past. Somehow they or their forebears hit bottom, maybe stared death in the face, experienced some crisis that changed them forever and focused their attention on creating and continuing a perpetual upward spiral. Their zest for life is irrepressible and they have no time for the kind of habitual kvetching that the likes of Bernie Sanders squandered his sorry career doing.
(Frankly, some 30 years ago when I first began working in Economics, I shared Bernie's sentiments. I expected to have to hold my nose and deal with a lot of evil greedy people.
But I found I was wrong. As it turns out, I was the prejudiced bigot; I was the one who stunk; and, over time, I learned to repent and be illumined; and I'm still learning.)
They're salt of the earth, simple, and direct. They speak in broken grammar because they haven't spent a lot of time in classrooms, and I usually manage to resist correcting them. If I do manage to tactfully help them out, they're grateful. They pay me generously and don't quibble about minimums. They appreciate value and are eager to reward it because that's how they succeeded.
After more than two decades working as a full time, nonpartisan, professional Economist with rich and poor, right and left, male and female, coming myself from a lower middle class background, that's my testimony.
On final reflection, this shift in understanding changed my view of Economics itself, from "The Dismal Science" that presupposes scarcity with its Marshallian graphs of supply and demand, to The Hopeful Science that, with its understanding of inspiration and motivation, presupposes the kind of fractal, exponential abundance that, far from being some far-fetched "impossible dream", God shows us all the time in nature in every living thing from microorganisms, to plants, to animals, to people.
For every mouth to feed, there are also two hands and a limitless mind. When you work it right, that's a pretty wonderful ratio: a recipe for fractal abundance.
