A few years ago there was a magazine format called Immodest Interview. Celebrities talked cheerfully about their sexual experiences, but when asked about income they closed like oysters who did not want to show their pearls. The Swiss don’t talk about money unless they live abroad. In any case, I often hear about financial worries here, which is interesting, mainly from acquaintances whose income is several times higher than mine. Obviously, money does not necessarily mean security. Sometimes they calculate how much it costs to have children.
It’s a good thing I didn’t know that, because how else could I do twice what others thought was impossible? Not only did my children survive my financial insecurities, they both managed to get into university, which I’m really proud of. How did I do it? Not as good as I would like to think! In my children, who have grown up during this time, the need for security is also more pronounced than mine, their third pillars are already growing into the sky, and mine can hardly stand on its feet. So whether or not you feel safe has nothing to do with the actual resources that are available to you. The account balance cannot reach any amount that could cause lasting calm.
Then what is it?
A few days ago I discussed this with two American friends. We are all the same age and find ourselves in more precarious situations than we could imagine at this stage of life. In part, we could counteract this development with smarter decisions, but some aspects are beyond our control, and indeed no control at all. However, we look to the future with different eyes. So why?
“You two experienced unconditional love as children,” Teresa suspects, looking at Annette and me. We exchange glances. Annette confirms this and traces her confidence back to her father, who always believed in her. “That’s why I have no problem asking for help,” she throws the ball back. Something Teresa and I find quite difficult. Then the conversation turns to other topics, but I think about it on the way home. I never experienced unconditional love as a child. And yet, like Annette, I had a kind of basic faith in life from early childhood. An unshakable feeling that somehow everything will work out by itself. Even if sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. Where did it come from? What’s this?
“My God!” – a believing friend makes a diagnosis, a little surprised that I myself had not thought of it before. But I’m not religious and none of the proposed gods have ever resonated with me. And still. I trust life and mostly people. And life, people basically agree with me.
So what is it? This is a gift. And gifts should not be questioned, they should be accepted with gratitude. And share if possible. So, no benefit, no harm: don’t worry too much. Everything will be fine. Promised.