I am an ordinary woman, living an ordinary life. I’m neither rich nor famous, at least by the standards those things are customarily measured: my bank account balance, the number of people who know my name/how readily recognizable I am. To me, those are superficial means of assessing anyone’s worth.
There are things I do well–cooking; writing; photography–that fulfill my passion to create. They don’t support me, although I have hopes for my photography, if not my writing. And I cook for pleasure, not profit, for the contentment derived from nourishing those I love.
Given either choice or opportunity, would you really want to be famous? Mega-rich? I wouldn’t. I can’t think of anything, materially speaking, that’s worth sacrificing my privacy for. Excessive income creates its own problems, or, as my husband puts it, “More money means bigger bills.”
I was fortunate enough to grow up in a home where we always had enough, in almost all the ways that matter. My mother often said, “I don’t want to be rich; I just want enough, with a little left over for fun.” That seems to me to be a near-perfect philosophy. It lies within each of us how we define enough, as well as what is important and meaningful in our lives. As I’ve grown, I find that non-material things offer the most satisfaction: spending time with my family and close friends; immersing myself in my art; learning to look for the small miracles in each day.
Abundance can be lovely indeed, when it’s an abundance of the right things. My wish for you, as you read this, is that you may have enough in your life, and the wisdom to recognize it for the gift that it is.