If I Had A Billion Dollars
an exercise in thinking big
Howdy! A quick announcement - there is now content here exclusively for paid subscribers! Paid subscribers will now receive access to various short stories (both serialized and super short whole ones) and they’ll also get a free eBook copy of any of my books that come out. Which means this August if you’re signed up as paid, you’ll get a free copy of “The Blingsters!” A bargain at twice the price, or so the saying goes.
Today’s post is about dreaming big. Because why not! So LET’S GO
woo alert!
Manifest this!
A few days ago I listened to a podcast about Human Design, a mixture of different, uh, systems? that can help you determine your traits and tendencies, and uncover your beliefs. I suppose it’s kind of like astrology on steroids. Hey, I am open to all kinds of things! As Melanie Griffith’s character Tess McGill says in Working Girl, you never know where the next big idea might come from. By checking out Human Design, I’m just broadening my perspectives.
Apparently HD was created in the ’80s, so perhaps it started as a yuppie antidote… I completed a little form and discovered that I’m a RARE type of designer! I am a Manifestor. Only 7% of everyone everywhere on the planet is a Manifestor. Manifestors are the ones who come up with the big ideas that make sh*t happen, but they quickly get tired and don’t always finish what they start, so it’s up to the other HD types to actually do the sh*t while we go off and take a nap. Manifestors think best by talking, and usually the first thing out of their mouths is their truth. This happens to me a lot—I’ll say something off the top of my head and it feels profound and I think holy hamhock, where did that come from? Anyway, I like feeling rare and special, I will take this where I can get it. Naturally I like Human Design.
All of these different modalities of self discovery can be helpful, if you use them as tools rather than take them as dogma. I might look at HD in a year and think, what a load of crap! But something about it caught my attention. What I took away from the podcast and the little bit of research I did was a reminder that we are all here for different reasons, we all have different strengths, and “fitting in” is a fallacy because there isn’t a “place” in which to fit.
It reminded me that I came here this time around to learn to be okay with not fitting in. For most of my life, I’ve gone between two states: trying too hard to fit in, and trying too hard not to fit in (to avoid feeling like a failure for not fitting in). What a waste of time. Oh well.
This fits in pretty well with being diagnosed as being on the spectrum, too. I always feel like I don’t fit in, whether I try or not. I realized I have often looked to others for behavioral cues since sometimes I don’t inherently know what to do. For example, I’ve come to accept the fact that I need Marcus’ help to make certain decisions, because I just need someone else to bounce my thoughts off of, or to help guide me through the process since I might not see all the possibilities. I’m not needy by any stretch, I just prefer some help, or maybe just a sounding board. I still come to my own conclusions. Like the other day we went to Nordstrom Rack and spent 15 minutes looking at different towels and debating price, color, pattern, etc etc etc and it got so confusing I hit my limit for being able to think about towels, and walked away and we left. Gah! It was just towels! Also Marcus is very indecisive so that doesn’t help either, lol.
So yes. I think I’m here to learn to be okay with feeling out of place. And maybe that right there helps me feel like I’ve found my place!
Also apparently I came here to manifest things. Not necessarily things, but maybe just create new ideas or help expand the collective human experience. No pressure.
I wish there was a manual for all this. Or maybe a YouTube video.
If I Had a Billion Dollars
Sometimes I dream big. Not all that often, because most of the time I’m so caught up in minutiae that I forget to dream, but every once in a while, I go big.
Last week I found myself wondering:
What would I do with a billion dollars?
Marcus came home for lunch just then, and we explored this topic together. Or rather, I told him all about what I was thinking and he mostly just listened.
The first thing I needed to do was let go of the idea that “that will never happen to me because earning a billion dollars is hard and I don’t like working hard or could never work hard enough to make that kind of bread.”
What if I simply assume I have it, just like that. Like I sneeze, and blammo! I have a billion bucks in my checking account. What a fun sneeze.
The second thing I had to do was not feel guilty for having a billion dollars.
What the heck would I do with it all? I’d start with obvious things, like paying of this house, buying a few more pairs of Adidas sneakers, and maybe some nice pants.
Then I’d go looking for a house with a pool. I don’t need a stupid big house. Who wants to pay to heat and cool a 5,000 sq ft house for 2 people? Stupid and environmentally reckless. However, I would have a craft room. And maybe a library. Uh oh…
The next thing I’d do would be to get over feeling guilty about having a pool. I know it’s a waste of water. For heaven’s sake I don’t even take baths because I feel too guilty. But the very best day of my whole life was spent next to a pool, and by golly, I want one. It would bring me a whole heck of a lot of joy. Oh, it would have a jacuzzi and the water would trickle from the jacuzzi into the pool creating the most relaxing waterfall sound… Are you with me?
I would gladly find other environmental compromises to make up for having a pool, like never using Saran Wrap ever again, or only flying internationally once a year.
After I get my house with a pool, I would naturally hire a chef and housekeeper. I do not cook. Cleaning, let’s not talk about it. Marcus says he would cook for us if I supported him so he could retire early, but I don’t know. I think I’ll opt for the chef.
This goes without saying but I’ll say it anyway—I would give most of the money away. Marcus and I talked about this at great length. How we would do research and find the best ways to make an impact in the areas that are important to us, like the environment, poverty, and health. I don’t want money for the sake of money. I want it for the freedom it buys and once I have that, I’d share the rest.
Speaking of freedom, one of the first things I’d do would be to take everything, AND I MEAN EVERYTHING, off my calendar for at least a month and do nothing. Or at least not have an agenda. I’m not very good at doing nothing (thank you guilt and German work ethic.) I would spend time getting used to how it feels to do nothing. Or do only things I absolutely want to. What an indulgence!
It doesn’t feel good to do things you don’t want to do. Yes, we all have to do some of those, of course. But wouldn’t it feel good if you could let a lot of those things go? If you had a billion dollars, what kinds of things would you just flat-out not do anymore?
Then, what would you do instead?
What if you did … get ready for it … nothing!
Can’t it be okay not to fill up the time you gain by not doing the things you don’t like? Maybe it’s okay not to do anything. Why do we think we always have to be doing something? Hustle economy my ass.
What if your billion dollars bought you … time? Time to savor and enjoy and ponder and rest and read and whatever else struck your fancy. Personally, I don’t believe in boredom.
Yes, time might be the most precious thing of all, I think.
Other than my new pool.
Gotta run—time to manifest a billion bucks.
Thanks for reading! Please share this post with someone you like, if you feel they might enjoy it.
Keep dreaming big Andrea!
The amount of $$ has really grown, but I like this version of the song…. https://youtu.be/LHacDYj8KZM
I like your ideas and I would somebody to manage the people working, pay the bills, schedule maintenance, and make reservations for trips and such.
I would get a corporate jet and hire a pilot and copilot. I love traveling but hate commercial flying.