A coworker from long ago used to say, “We trade time for money, so we should try to get as much money as possible for our time.” I understood his sentiment, but had long ago decided that I wasn’t willing to make the moral compromises required to get rich; I confess that I was not as zealous as he was.
For me, riches are going home to my family at the end of the day, and puttering around the house on weekends.
I don’t think so.
If we re-imagine the Garden of Eden, Adam spent his time with Eve, and it was considered paradise. Even after they’d been evicted, it was still pretty-not-too-bad. There was hunting and gathering to be done, after which Adam returned to his family.
It was when their children began to murder one another that it all went to hell. Adam and Eve, the first parents were also the first parents to bury a child—a child who was murdered by a brother. A terrible tradition that has sadly continued—today, any parent who loses a child feels the same pain—especially if it was murder.
So, for me, each day I can return home to my family it is the best part of the day and my most precious treasure.