Anyway, third was the potential that money held. I’m sure some of you will have no problem picturing a five year old me, sat on his bed surrounded by teetering copper and silver stacks of 5p and 10p coins, laughing maniacally to himself while imaging all that could be his.
But lastly, it was something to measure. Now I know this sounds an awful lot like counting again, but I mean it in a less literal way. How much money I had was important to me. Getting a quid for washing the car wasn’t so noteworthy because I had one pound in my hand. It was noteworthy because I had one more pound. The change itself would give greater significance to any money that I earned or spent. I measured my money, and so in a way it became a measure of me. Having that saved money gave me satisfaction. It signified a job well done, or two weeks of not buying sweets, or any number of other things. I could look at the amount of money I had and be proud of myself.
While I was hoarding, fantasising, counting and recounting the money I’d squirrelled away, there was one number that often played around in my head. The biggest number I could possible fathom. A million. Oh, to have a million! To think what that would signify. Oh, to be a millionaire!
Growing up, I gradually stopped counting quite so regularly. Eventually I got to the age where I put all my money in an account, and so would rarely actually see it. It loses a lot of its magic and mystery when you do that. I understood better than ever before the potential of money, had a much more accurate idea of it’s real world value, but no longer found myself dreaming of all that I might buy. It became much more practical. And in doing so, much less fantastical.
And yet... Oh to be a millionaire! That number, for whatever reason, still gripped my imagination. I no longer thought about what on Earth I would do with all that money (or whether it in fact remained to be that large of a number at all, in the scheme of things) but I still fancied the notion. For a considerable slice of my life, there has been a part of me that’s wanted, very much, to be a millionaire.
It still meant something to me. It still said something to me. Still said something about me. I felt that it would speak of what I had done with my life, of the path I had chosen. My challenges faced, my chances taken, my successes. I was studying business and marketing after all and I hoped to set up my own company at some point. Reaching that number felt like the ultimate achievement. The true measure of a business’ success. Of an entrepreneur's triumph.
Then I came to Japan for two years and taught English to teenagers.
Two years ago, nothing would have terrified me more than going back to secondary school. Two years ago, I would have told you languages are my weakest area. Two years ago, I had never bungee jumped, been to China, driven 4,000km in two weeks, or even seen a snowboard. I’d never lived alone. And I’d certainly never left behind all the people I’d ever known to move to a country where I couldn’t speak the language and I’d never done the job before. The challenges I’ve faced here, the chances I’ve taken and the unbelievable successes I’ve felt in my life have been overwhelming.
AND JUST LOOK AT MY BANK ACCOUNT!
Was I right or what, eh?
It’s been said by a lot of people in a lot of different ways, but I’m going to paraphrase Shepard Book. It’s not the destination, but how you get there that’s the worthier part.
The journey I took to end up with a million yen in my bank account... Well I think it is a pretty good measure of me. I think it does say something about me. And I think I like what it says.
All the best with your own journeys, wherever they may be.
But lastly, it was something to measure. Now I know this sounds an awful lot like counting again, but I mean it in a less literal way. How much money I had was important to me. Getting a quid for washing the car wasn’t so noteworthy because I had one pound in my hand. It was noteworthy because I had one more pound. The change itself would give greater significance to any money that I earned or spent. I measured my money, and so in a way it became a measure of me. Having that saved money gave me satisfaction. It signified a job well done, or two weeks of not buying sweets, or any number of other things. I could look at the amount of money I had and be proud of myself.
While I was hoarding, fantasising, counting and recounting the money I’d squirrelled away, there was one number that often played around in my head. The biggest number I could possible fathom. A million. Oh, to have a million! To think what that would signify. Oh, to be a millionaire!
Growing up, I gradually stopped counting quite so regularly. Eventually I got to the age where I put all my money in an account, and so would rarely actually see it. It loses a lot of its magic and mystery when you do that. I understood better than ever before the potential of money, had a much more accurate idea of it’s real world value, but no longer found myself dreaming of all that I might buy. It became much more practical. And in doing so, much less fantastical.
And yet... Oh to be a millionaire! That number, for whatever reason, still gripped my imagination. I no longer thought about what on Earth I would do with all that money (or whether it in fact remained to be that large of a number at all, in the scheme of things) but I still fancied the notion. For a considerable slice of my life, there has been a part of me that’s wanted, very much, to be a millionaire.
It still meant something to me. It still said something to me. Still said something about me. I felt that it would speak of what I had done with my life, of the path I had chosen. My challenges faced, my chances taken, my successes. I was studying business and marketing after all and I hoped to set up my own company at some point. Reaching that number felt like the ultimate achievement. The true measure of a business’ success. Of an entrepreneur's triumph.
Then I came to Japan for two years and taught English to teenagers.
Two years ago, nothing would have terrified me more than going back to secondary school. Two years ago, I would have told you languages are my weakest area. Two years ago, I had never bungee jumped, been to China, driven 4,000km in two weeks, or even seen a snowboard. I’d never lived alone. And I’d certainly never left behind all the people I’d ever known to move to a country where I couldn’t speak the language and I’d never done the job before. The challenges I’ve faced here, the chances I’ve taken and the unbelievable successes I’ve felt in my life have been overwhelming.
AND JUST LOOK AT MY BANK ACCOUNT!
Was I right or what, eh?
It’s been said by a lot of people in a lot of different ways, but I’m going to paraphrase Shepard Book. It’s not the destination, but how you get there that’s the worthier part.
The journey I took to end up with a million yen in my bank account... Well I think it is a pretty good measure of me. I think it does say something about me. And I think I like what it says.
All the best with your own journeys, wherever they may be.
Brilliant! Looking forward to being kept in my old age.....
ReplyDeleteI'll be doing no such thing with the way the exchange rate is these days...
DeleteIt is BIZARRE thinking of all the things you hadn't done/ learned/ tried two years ago. Who was that person? I don't know. He was pretty cool. But this version is Even. Cooler.
ReplyDelete(Also, now have an image of you cackling madly as a five-year-old when we were all asleep, saying "excellent, eeeexcellent.")
That guy had a LOT to learn.
Delete(Also, yes. I may have done that)
I guess the next step is to be a billionaire then. Or...perhaps you can start a gold bar collection.
ReplyDeleteYou know better than to joke about that ; )
ReplyDeleteI have an image of an alternate universe where 5 year old Colin is trying to teach 5 year old Barry the value of money. "See? This represents the potential of sweets!" "But I want sweets" "yes yes, and this is the same thing!" "Not the same. Want sweets" "but you can buy sweets with this pound!" "How much sweets?" "Well, a pound worth of sweets" "... Moooom! Colin is trying to take my sweets!!"
ReplyDeleteCongratulations on your adventures, hard earned and of great value. I'm so proud of you, it takes a strong character to choose a challenge like you did.
ReplyDeleteHere's to life's next big journey! Whatever form it takes!