Burning Beneath

It’s wild how money—just paper or numbers on a screen—can have such a powerful grip on our emotions. We chase it, stress over it, sacrifice time, energy, and sometimes even our peace of mind just to earn a little more of it. And yet, no matter how hard we try to hold on, it always seems to slip through our fingers like water. Rent, bills, groceries, unexpected emergencies—it’s gone before we even feel it in our hands.

There are moments when I have a bit of money—maybe a hundred dollars in my bank account or tucked away in my pocket—and in that brief window, I feel something like relief. Not happiness exactly, but a strange sense of safety. The kind of safety that says, “If something comes up, if the kids need something, I can manage. I won’t be empty-handed.”That little buffer feels like a breath of air after being underwater too long.

But when that small cushion disappears—and it always does—the weight comes crashing down. The depression hits harder. The anxiety creeps in, and that quiet, cruel voice in my head starts whispering, “How did you end up here again? After everything? After the education, the experience, the years of trying and trying and trying—how are you still at square zero?”

Not even square one. Square zero.

It feels like failure. Like the system was never built for people like me to win. Like no matter how many times I try to reinvent myself, work harder, do better—the outcome never changes. And I can’t help but wonder… is it me? Or is it the system?

Because something isn’t right here.

This life/work equation? It’s broken. It’s not adding up, not delivering what it promised. And I refuse to believe that this is how life was meant to be—living paycheck to paycheck, joy tied to a bank balance, self-worth tangled in financial stability.

There has to be another way to live.

A way where our value isn’t dictated by how much we earn, where survival doesn’t come at the cost of our peace, where we can breathe without the shadow of bills chasing us. I don’t have the answer yet—but I’m starting to believe that the first step is in asking the question:

What if we stopped chasing money—and started creating a life rooted in meaning, connection, and purpose instead?