Good creation of luck?

Do wealthy people create their own luck?

Or do wealthy people simply take action when they notice an opportunity?

We can all live in fantasy but making fantasy reality involves action and commitment.

That night, as I walked home, the few articulated words spun through my mind. ‘Your society,’ cyclically repeated. It suggested his removal. How could a person create luck? How did perspective affect that? What was actually taking place behind the M.O.N.E.Y. farm’s walls? Was the M.O.N.E.Y. farm outside of society? Had it created its own society and structure? Why were his eyes so bright and why did he ‘feel’ so wise?

            His reference to financial slavery had struck a chord. Something within that comment had shifted my blinkers. The sickening feeling of realization wrenched my gut: I was simply a slave to a financial system ruled by moneymaking, fear, greed and no morals. I had accepted that to survive. I had bought into the conditioning provided by the time, era and space I existed within. I had to exchange the valuable hours of my life in pursuit of an illusionary golden carrot. That golden carrot never actually existed but offered me potential happiness in the future as long as I kept chasing. The goal was always just beyond reach but it kept the proverbial human hamster in the wheel. Happiness is always said to be in the future so where is the incentive to live the now? What made the chase worse was when the ideal was attained but it didn’t satisfy. It would never satisfy. It was the chase that provided the satisfaction.

            I realised how the mind can illuminate and torture. It was both my strength and weakness and now the question haunting me was: when had I actively accepted the social terms? Maybe by entering the world I had unconsciously signed a contract – were the details of my social ownership hidden in my birth certificate? The unfortunate reality was that society owned me. I had never made those conscious choices; instead my contribution to the so called ‘greater good’ was assumed and integral to survival within the farcical social system. A system of strangers who now competed to have more than each other and were growing more and more selfish because they were consumed by an egotistical ideal manufactured by the monarchy. 

Through everyone’s impressionable years, the diet of illusion and fantasy had become the staple mental diet. Falsified/hyper-real media images filled people with the ‘need’ for meaningless objects to define themselves in the eyes of strangers. At the age of fourteen, many joined the employment treadmill with part-time jobs or paper-rounds. They then ran full speed to consume disposable goods that ultimately meant nothing.

In reflection, I personally bought commodities to distract from a meaningless existence without community. The more people had, the more isolated they felt. The more they had, the more they ‘appeared’ to be in the eyes of peers who were all playing the same game with the same rules. The irony was that they were all so busy looking at what they had they hardly had time to pay attention to others. That was how ‘our’ society was set up – a mass financial psychosis. The virtues of love, kindness and compassion had been replaced by greed, fear and violence. Community had dissolved and mass dissatisfaction was on the increase. Fear overpowered trust and many feared having their possessions stolen. The expression ‘Love thy neighbour’ became ‘Compete with thy neighbour for more expensive items to feel better about yourself.’

When one looked at the patterns and systems, denial, unawareness and psychosis had become the mass-mania-mindset. A mental bubble consumed each individual – people walked about with metaphorical fish tanks encapsulating their heads. An objective view from the outside looking in must have been perplexing, yet being amongst the system no-one knew any different. It was like being a lion amongst the sheep. The lion could only see it was a lion by moving away from the flock and peering at its reflection. I felt in the depths of my being that I needed to move from the flock but what was the alternative? An isolated island, a monastery, or the M.O.N.E.Y. farm? It wasn’t as if you could dip a toe in the farm and see what it was like. You had to absolutely commit. All my ‘issues’ rose to the surface – could I learn? Was I good enough? What happened if I didn’t like it? Yet the mystery enticed me – the M.O.N.E.Y. secrets stirred me. What did they know that I didn’t? Was it worth dedicating everything that I was, ‘my illusionary freedom’, to such learning?

While I was out of the system and not working, I felt worthless, as if I was some kind of scrounger, even though I was living off ten years of hard-earned savings and not claiming benefits. It was an odd dynamic – why did I feel so compelled to work? Why did I feel guilt when I did not conform? Why work in dissatisfying jobs just to have a job? How can a person put their heart and soul into that which does not provide fulfillment and lacks purpose? In contrast, many without work had lost a sense of purpose. Their altered value system perplexed the rest of the working society. One thing was certain – it was a conundrum. The workers supported the scroungers who believed it was their right to be looked after. Even if they were offered their perfect job they would not take it because they had formed a habitual parasitic belief.

The mental churn returned, the aggravation of analysis – the more I ran the conversation through my mind, the more I felt that I wanted to see beyond the walls of the farm. ‘If your profile fits the farm’s needs, then you will have the opportunity to become one of us and live your true potential.’ I desired to live my true potential – the seed planted in my heart was growing. The M.O.N.E.Y. farm crept under my skin like the longing for an unobtainable lover. I needed to know more, be more. A pattern could alter and a blinker could shift but was anyone ever ready for absolute transformation? What did he actually mean by a financial time bomb was soon to explode? What did he know? What had he seen?



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