The Rich and Happy

           Over the course of my life (in large part owing to my career), I’ve had the good fortune of meeting, and in some cases, knowing personally, a few very wealthy people. (Wealth in this context meaning worldly wealth, i.e. money.)

            Some run large enterprises. Some run for office. Some inherited theirs. Others gained theirs by entrepreneurial endeavors. Regardless how they got there, I’ve long been fascinated by people of wealth (as is most of our country).

The topic is intriguing, especially in our culture, which means wealth will get you invited to a radio interview or television talk show. Seems our Western mindset can’t get enough “rags-to-riches” stories. Wealth has become this measuring stick by which we compare our own lives…(shallow as that is)  too often mistaking “net worth” for our inner worth...

By way of personal observation (by no means a scientific study) I know beyond doubt, that wealth is no guarantee of happiness. To the contrary, in more cases than not, I’ve personally found many who’ve amassed great fortunes to be as uncertain or insecure as one lacking funds entirely, the reason being that the “uber wealthy” very often carry an inner sense of self doubt, wondering just why others long to be near them ...(i.e. Is it me or is it my money?)

I sadly recall a very wealthy man who once shared (when describing those who called him after amassing his wealth) “I wish they’d just get to the point…The “Hi, How are you?/ How’re the kids?” is filler.  At this stage, no one’s calling to check on my health so cut to the chase, would you?”

Despite our culture’s tendency to stereotype all blondes, all lawyers…all ______(fill in the blank/you name it), clumping all rich folk into into one elitist category would likewise, be wrong, but my personal observations on the truly wealthy bring me to this conclusion: Sure… they may not worry about their mortgages, their light bills, their credit cards, but dig a layer deeper and you may find them worried about their identity, which is to say “Would you still call if I were broke?”

To me, it is clear: money does not guarantee happiness, but on the other hand, it is not always a curse as (fortunately) not all rich are created equal. Still and so, as I reflect on the American dream and some longed for lifestyle of the rich and famous, I have found one common denominator for those who are rich and genuinely happy. (And it has precious little to do with their net worth.)

I’ve read where Andrew Carnegie spent the first half of his life amassing his fortune and the second half giving it away. I have likewise met those for whom their latter years have spawned a newfound passion for giving to others.

Over the past 24, I’ve had the good fortune of meeting one such soul (a couple, actually) and must confess I had to work hard not to turn their most gracious invitation into an investigative report on the happily wealthy. A couple blessed beyond measure, I happened upon two people that, today, are as in love as they were the day they met, and as happy as any two people I’ve ever met, rich or poor.

The meeting came about quite coincidentally (if you believe in such, which I do not). Bottom line, we had a mutual cause for which they had money and I had interest in helping.

Like me, they grow a garden. (Unlike me, they’ve probably never had their water shut off.)

Like me, they love dogs. (Unlike me, they lack goats, but we can fix this.)

In short, I was moved…Deeply moved. More common is it to find wealth as a lifestyle or mindset than wealth as a spiritual proposition, but as our day wound down, their down to earth, giving hearts were as inspiring as a Gaither gospel hour.

“I love to give” he said. “We’ve been blessed beyond measure, but none of the “stuff” matters. It is only in our ability to give, that I feel any sense of “rich.”

So quick are we to judge the rich, I thought, recalling a story I once heard about Mother Teresa, who they say often traveled first class…(never paid for by her organization; instead, pro bono, from airlines who could not resist bumping her up, so I'm told).

When asked once as she was coming off a plane why she accepted such posh accommodation, her reply was: “That is where the money is.”

It was not for her own cushy comfort that she accepted such gifts so much as it positioned her to talk to those of means about helping her causes. (No doubt, Mother Teresa was nobody’s fool.)

Same goes for those wealthy who are givers…those who give without notice…who share not for notoriety, attention or fame, but who share because (as my newfound friend put it)  “I love to give.”

Souls like these deserve to be rich to my way of thinking, for in their richness (too often measured in bank accounts and net worth) their true worth comes for the loving, compassionate spirit in which they give it all away. (Folks like these are just darned fun to watch, and they are certainly an honor to know.)