Conversations For Transformation

Essays By Laurence Platt

Inspired By The Ideas Of Werner Erhard

And More


Give Me Money

(That's What I Want?)

Santa Barbara, California, USA

March 21, 2009


"Give me money (that's what I want)." ... The Beatles

This essay, Give Me Money (That's What I Want?), is the companion piece to Business As Usual.

It is also the second in a group of two on Money:
  1. Money And Us
  2. Give Me Money (That's What I Want?)
in that order.

It is also the third in a group of four written in Santa Barbara:
  1. Santa Barbara
  2. Unbelievable
  3. Give Me Money (That's What I Want?)
  4. True Gold
in that order.

The title of this essay, the title of this conversation isn't a declaration. It's an inquiry.
It's not "Give me money (that's what I want  ! )". It's "Give me money (that's what I want  ? )".

I love The Beatles and their music. I love the way they work together. I love their zaniness, their scintillatingly acerbic wit ("The people in the cheaper seats, clap your hands. And the rest of you, if you'd just rattle your jewelry.").

I love the way they're unselfdeprecatingly confident of their own genius. I love the way they gleefully mine their vein of enormous talent not only for awesome music but also for great wealth. It's now common lore  when John Lennon and Paul McCartney sat down to write "Help!", the session started with McCartney's infamous "Let's write a swimming pool.".

This conversation isn't about The Beatles. You'd have to step outside  of that conversation to get what this is really about.

Outside the realm of prudent nutritional practice ie eating right  as a component of what makes for a life that works, and outside the responsibility (recognized or not) each of us has for nurturing our own bodies, if my daily credo was "Give me food (that's what I want!)", you could assume (probably accurately) there's an obsession somewhere. The starving beggar and the gourmet glutton share the same predicament. If my daily credo was "Give me wine (that's what I want!)", you could also assume (probably accurately) there's an obsession somewhere. The thirsty desert nomad and the oenophile  alcoholic share the same predicament.

That said, food and drink are basic necessities. Life on Planet Earth doesn't go well without them. Acknowledged or not, no food from either a Delhi street market or from Napa Valley's French Laundry  can in and of itself  create a context for wholeness and completion where's there's none to begin with. Acknowledged or not, no drink from either the office water fountain or from the famed French Bordeau appellation  can in and of itself  create a context for wholeness and completion where's there's none to begin with.

"Give me money (that's what I want!)", infectious, catchy, boisterous, exuberant, asks for money which by itself  (acknowledged or not) won't create a context for wholeness and completion where's there's none to begin with. But it's worse than that actually. If you tell the truth about what's undistinguished, we eat beyond eating right  because eating suppresses feelings of emptiness and incompletion. We drink beyond quenching thirst  because drinking suppresses feelings of emptiness and incompletion.

Take a look. Tell the truth. Isn't that what we want money to do? To be specific, isn't that what we envision  having a swimming pool  of money will do? "Give me money (that's what I want!)  because money will vanquish these feelings of emptiness and incompletion ..." - that's the daily credo. The trouble is without already wholeness and completion, there'll never be enough money. Ever. It's futile.

What I want is to eat right and I do. But I don't want food like a gourmet glutton. What I want is to quench my thirst and I do. But I don't want wine like an oenophile alcoholic. What I want is to be financially viable and I am. But I don't want money like another obsession. In fact, money? That's not  what I want. What I want  is my life to make a difference. That's what I want. What I want is my life to count. That's what I want. What I want is my vocation to be so enthralling, so calling  it drives me out of bed early in the morning and keeps me up late at night. That's what I want. What I want is to discover how to serve (as Albert Schweitzer may have said). That's what I want. What I want is complete rapid response communication with everyone transformed and no one and nothing left out.

That's what I want! Oh yeah!  That's what I want.


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© Laurence Platt - 2009 Permission