[MikeWaters]

We may be most influenced by the generation in closest proximity to us--our parents--in terms of thinking about money.

The simple facts, layed out, are this: my parents were not wealthy, lower middle-class. They worried about money. They did not hide their worry about money. Not that their worry was unfounded, but it is hard for a child to correctly understand and interpret this worry. To some degree, this no doubt influenced me to consider a career with both intellectual rewards as well as financial rewards.

I am now in the very lower echelon of those in my profession, in terms of financial reimbursement, but still far beyond my parents, and well in excess of what my family needs to be reasonably comfortable.

I'm on the other side of the fence now--among those that do not have to worry so much about our day-to-day finances. Gripe about a car breaking down? Sure. Catastrophe? No.

So I am sitting here thinking, what would it mean to increase my salary by 50%? What about doubling my salary? How would my life change? What it would mean?

A bigger house? A nicer car? I don't see either of those things contributing to my happiness in a significant way. More toys? Like what? A riding lawn mower? What are the material things that bring happiness? A vacation to Europe? An expensive steak at a posh restaurant? Hobnobbing with rich friends?

I have a kind, loving wife. Two children I love very much. I have friends. I have people I serve to some small degree. Without these, there would be little happiness in my life.

I am deeply skeptical of the value of the pursuit of mammon.

I feel like the arrow in the quiver that feels like it may never fly. Let me fly. Let me bend in the pull's release, let me soar, hit, and vibrate. And be still.

And perhaps, as the flinty arrowhead found in the creek wash, after the shaft has crumbled into the earth, let me inspire just one imagination of what my flight must have been.