Time and Money

My current job ends in 13 days. Fortunately, I knew that it would come to a finish eventually and, even though my status as a “transitional employee” has been extended twice, there is a finality about January 28 that is unavoidable.

As I sat in my cubicle yesterday, closing out loans on my computer, I looked out the window and saw myself looking in. I know it was just my usual reflection, but it seemed like more of an out-of-body experience this time. What was I doing here, trapped inside a stuffy office for eight hours a day? Is this how I envisioned myself when I was my daughter’s age? It reminded me of something my drama instructor once said. I believe it was a quote from Francois Truffaut (and I am probably mangling it), but it went something like this: “How many of us, back when we were teenagers, if we could have seen ourselves in middle age would not have immediately committed suicide?”

The experience made me think of probably the most important thing my father ever told me. I was in the back bedroom of our home in Mill Valley and I don’t remember how the conversation started, but we got on the subject of finances. He told me that he thought the old adage, “Time is money” was wrong. According to his thinking, the real equation should be, “Money is time.”

From an arithmetic sense, the two should have equal meaning. But, from a philosophical point of view, they couldn’t be further apart. “Time is money” suggests that the purpose of time is increase wealth. It's frequently used to convey the message that if you are wasting time, you are passing by on limited opportunities to get ahead in the world. What it doesn’t address is the issue of why you are compelled to increase wealth in the first place. Presumably, the answer is to acquire more “stuff” than your neighbor. Or as a 1980s bumper sticker once proclaimed, “He who dies with the most toys, wins.”

No, my dad argued, “Money is time.” That is, if you want to have more money to buy more things, the deal with the devil is that you must give up a portion of the most valuable commodity you have – your life. In other words, imagine every day as a slice of your time on this planet. Then, everything you buy is exchanged for a number of days working at some job that is probably less enjoyable than whatever you would be doing if you didn’t have to work.

Ferenc Mate, the author of A Reasonable Life, puts it this way: Let’s assume you are building a house and decide that your simply must have the three-car garage that only adds, say, $100,000 to the $900,000 cost (not out of the ballpark, here in Marin County). Reasonable enough, you might say. Then, figure that roughly $100,000 in interest will be paid to service that $100,000 in principal over the period of a 30-year loan at 5% interest. So, your garage now costs approximately $200,000. Now, let’s assume you and your spouse earn $150,000 per year and manage to keep $100,000 after taxes. I’ve simplified the math quite a bit, but that’s two years of both of you working at your job, rather than spending time with your kids, traveling, gardening or just enjoying each other’s company - all for a garage.

Two years may not seem so important, but as I see elderly residents of my father’s assisted care facility clinging to the last few days, weeks, or months of their lives, I wonder how many of them would have liked to have swapped some of those years they spent in the rat race for time spent really enjoying life, back when they were able?

But perhaps you are not planning on buying a $900,000 home. As I look out my window, I can see the top of Mt. Tamalpais. I have ridden up there many times, up the Old Railroad Grade, right up to below the fire lookout I can see from here. Would a $4,000 mountain bike make the climb that much more enjoyable? If so, then I need to prepare to spend at least two more months at my keyboard, entering data, instead of riding.

Ultimately, there is a cost to everything we buy, and it is a slice of our life, lopped off our limited number of days on this planet. That isn’t to say that some things aren’t worth earning. Just that it is good to keep desire and happiness in perspective.

I plan to spend some of my time, once I am officially laid off, contemplating that equation and weighing the trade-offs in my life, as I plan my next move. I will be doing my contemplating, however, atop my $35 mountain bike, climbing up past the Double Bowknot on my way to the summit. I will also be thinking of my father, whose wisdom is no less valid today than it was when he offered it thirty-five years ago.