Losing Money

When the number in your account goes down, does your sense of your own value go down with it?

You may have worked toward that number for years. You may have imagined it as the moment you would finally feel secure or successful. Losing it can seem like losing much more than money.

I love money. I love making it, having it, and what it allows me to do. But loving money is different from being attached to it as the measure of my life.

In Episode 315, I explored that difference during the economic uncertainty of 2020. The question was how to relate to losing money without making the loss mean that we were less worthy or that the purpose of our lives had disappeared.

Money gives you options, not a new level of human worth

Having money can change parts of your life. You can buy things, solve certain problems, and have opportunities you didn’t have before.

But it doesn’t change the 50-50 balance of being human. You still experience joy and pain. Money doesn’t move you into a permanent state of happiness.

When I step back and consider the purpose of my life, I know it isn’t simply accumulating things. It isn’t being thin, popular, or famous.

My value as a human being is deeper than any of those external measures. That understanding lets me enjoy success without making it responsible for who I am.

You can want money and still recognize that it isn’t the most important thing about your life.

What is left when the money is gone?

I was listening to Geneen Roth’s Lost and Found, in which she describes losing her savings after investing with Bernie Madoff.

As I walked with my dogs, I had a profound thought: humans had meaningful, purposeful lives before the stock market, retirement accounts, and all the financial structures we now treat as essential measures of success.

That thought helped me see the difference between the human life itself and the things we create around it.

I can love being successful and still recognize that success isn’t the source of my worth. If external circumstances change, I still have my mind, my ability to contribute, and the opportunity to show up as the best version of myself.

Being an example of what is possible may look different under different circumstances. The purpose can remain even when its expression changes.

Not being attached doesn’t mean giving up

People sometimes hear that money doesn’t determine their worth and conclude they shouldn’t pay attention to it.

That isn’t what I mean.

You can know something isn’t the source of your worth and still choose to create it, enjoy it, and care for it. You don’t have to be gripping it tightly to participate fully.

For me, money has been about my relationship with the world and creating value. I want to do that work. I enjoy it.

Releasing attachment doesn’t require releasing the desire to contribute or the willingness to use your mind. It gives you a different place to do those things from.

You can pursue success without making every change in a number a verdict about your life.

Separate the circumstance from what you believe about yourself

You can’t choose to keep a stock-market account at the same value regardless of what happens. Circumstances can change.

You can choose how to think about that change and what you do next.

Losing a job, moving, or having less money may change what is available to you. Those changes don’t have to change your belief in your worth, resilience, or ability to contribute.

When you believe a retirement-account number proves you have arrived, losing part of it can feel like losing your value. Notice that thought.

The number has changed. Your human worth has not.

Regretting the past and attacking yourself won’t create the future you want. Reflection, compassion, and decisions about what to do next give you something to work with.

Make a list of what matters to you

I asked myself what I most love in my day-to-day life and what feels deeply valuable to me.

Walking outside is one of those things. I love being with my dogs, having time to think, and listening to teachers while I walk.

Reading is another. I have experienced many luxuries, but sitting down with a book feels like one of the greatest. Being able to learn and enjoy someone’s writing matters enormously to me.

Talking with my family matters. Coaching matters. I can use what I know to help someone without requiring an elaborate external setup.

Those things helped me recognize how much of what I value most isn’t dependent on a large amount of money.

My list includes mornings, laughter, sunshine, nature, dogs, and love. Making the list reminded me of the richness already present.

What is on your list? If you believe the most important things in your life all have to be purchased, look at what you think those purchases will give you.

Notice simple abundance

I often think about the privilege of clean drinking water. Turning on a tap and having water available is something I don’t want to stop appreciating.

A glass of water with ice can bring my attention back to something real and valuable in the moment.

This isn’t about pretending a financial loss didn’t happen. It’s about giving equal attention to what you haven’t lost.

Your mind may be focusing intensely on the missing amount. Let it also recognize what remains, what is true about you, and what you can still enjoy or offer.

Keep the purpose of your life bigger than the number

I want people to expand what they believe is possible with money. I want us to see opportunities to create value rather than treating abundance as one small pie we must fight over.

But I also want us to understand that money doesn’t determine who we are.

You can do your best with the circumstances in front of you. You can decide how to think, what to create, and how to contribute. You can pursue more money without asking it to establish your worth.

If you have lost money, take a breath. Acknowledge the change and notice the thoughts you are having about it.

Then remember what you haven’t lost. Your life, its worth, and the possibility of purposeful participation are bigger than that number.