In the early years of my career, one of the top performers in my company hosted a company party at her new house.
She and her husband were very well off -- she, as noted, was a top performer, and he had done so well in his own career that he had graduated to that exalted station in life we call "private investor."
Anyways, at the time of the party they had just finished building their dream house. A huge faux French chateaux set into a hillside in a very expensive part of town. The property was divided into three tiers, with the house at the top, a swimming pool/outdoor kitchen on the middle tier and a tennis court at the bottom.
She led us on personally guided tours of the property. She was very proud of it all, not missing any chance to point out the special marble on the floor there, the custom wallpaper pattern on the wall over there, the specially-built refrigerator, etc. We were meant to be impressed, and we were. At the time, it was easily the nicest house I had ever visited.
He was nowhere to be seen. It was only near the end of the tour, as we reached the swimming pool/outdoor kitchen tier, that I saw him. He was lounging poolside in a chair positioned for maximum UV exposure, nursing a frosty drink. I walked over, said hi and noted that we were all very impressed with his new house. He looked at me over the top of his sunglasses, spread his arms wide and announced "This is BIG living!"
I grew up in a family that practiced tiny living. By the time of the party, I had progressed sufficiently that I could fairly say I was living small-medium. Since the party, I have been fortunate to continue my progress, advancing to the medium-large tier of living. I hope to continue to advance economically, but I'm pretty sure that, no matter how much I succeed, I'll never be able to enter the world of big living.
Big living requires something I don't have, something that cannot be purchased with money. Big living requires an attitude of entitlement, demanding the most from life and expecting it to deliver even more. Big living requires us to check our guilt, our shame and our fears at the door.
Living tiny during childhood stunted my big living skills. As I make more money, I worry more about losing it. When I buy nice things, I feel guilty for spending so money. I don't get any kick from parading my success. I don't feel like I deserve most luxuries. I even have a hard time enjoying myself on vacations -- part of me is always thinking I could have made that $9.00 drink for 30 cents.
My family wasn't poor, it just lived that way. As I've run across more and more big livers, I've noticed many came from poor families that did not live that way. A friend of mine who lives big -- 23,000 square foot mansion, $200,000 sports car, ridiculously elaborate and expensive vacations -- has a father who went bankrupt four times during my friend's childhood. The father apparently dreamed big but always fell a little short in the execution. The son also dreams big but, fortunately, managed to execute it well and remain comfortably solvent. He's realized his father's dreams. If I realize my father's dreams, I'll find a neverending source for half-off dented cans, a grocery store that accepts double coupons and a car that runs for 30 years and I'll die with an unspent cash hoard buried in my backyard.
Part of me disdains big living, part of me fears it, but a growing part of me keeps thinking we only get one life, why not live it BIG!
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