How to Make a Living Without Killing Yourself

Work. Leaving Babylon.

The primary problem of our time is one’s career. That is to say, the primary problem of our time is the same as the primary problem of every time which is, “what will I do for money?” That is to say, the primary problem of every time in humanity is the same as it is for all of nature, e.g., “What will I eat?” Every day, all around the world, animals and birds and fish and reptiles all open their eyes with the morning sun and think to themselves, “All right. What’s for breakfast?” This, we will call it, is The Animal Condition. The Default Life. Factory settings on what it means to be alive on Earth.

Air is easy enough. And water, though we might have concerns as to its cleanliness, literally falls from the sky. It is food, and the other less immediate needs of life like clothing, warmth, and shelter, that enslaves people and makes them hate themselves and their existence and, sooner or later, other human beings. Perhaps when you were young, in college say, the idea of “a career” or “a job” sounded cool and exciting to you but, sometime in early adulthood, after you’d experienced the reality of one, then maybe the existential horror of the whole scenario set in. Maybe it drove you to depression. Maybe it prompted you to consider suicide. Maybe it fueled your road rage or extremist politics. Because every day… every damned day… was now the same. You found yourself trapped, like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, in the endless wheel of samsara. You find that your existence now consists only of Wake up. Go to work. Come home. Go to sleep. Wake up. Go to work. Come home. Go to sleep. Wake up. Go to work. Come home. Go to sleep. Wake up. Go to work. Come home. Go to sleep. Wake up. Go to work. Come home. Go to sleep. Wake up. Go to work. Come home. Go to sleep. Wake up…

And then one day, as you get out of bed, it hits you.

Is this all there is? Is this all I was made for? When will I have time to be alive?

Retirement.

That’s the answer given to you by The System.

Sure, they say, it sucks now, but, if you try, and if you are patient, and if you put in the hours and put in the work, then, about forty to fifty years from now, you can quit and enjoy the fruits of your labor. “The Golden Years”, they call it. The years after Life has already passed you by when you can look back and see that you traded it all for a timeshare in Florida.

Even that is iffy.

Retirement, once more-or-less a given for all but the lowest classes, now for many seems out of reach but for the highest, those with advanced degrees and connections and already wealthy parents. Social Security seems to be always hanging by a thread and any savings you make are slowly eaten by inflation and every time you try and save for a house the price just goes up and up and up and you realize after a while that maybe you don’t have thirty years left in you to pay a thirty-year mortgage… and the bank realizes it too.

Well, okay.

Maybe you won’t get to retire.

Fine. “Fine” they tell you. The economic situation might not now or ever be in your favor but at least if you try and follow your passion then your work-a-day life won’t feel so unbearable. “Do what you love,” your elders told you with a smile growing up, “and you’ll never work a day in your life.” But what I love is rock climbing, you think to yourself. What I love is yoga. What I love is music and dancing and hanging out with my friends and traveling and being outside.

What you love nobody pays for.

Quite the conundrum.

I’m sure, amongst the vast quantities of human beings which come with all their differences, there are a few people who really do love being accountants. People who genuinely have a passion for being bakers or coders or candlestick makers. Men and women whose dream it was to grow up and be a middle manager or an HR representative and who feel, genuinely, completely contented in such roles.

But that’s not most people.

That’s not you.

What you want to spend your life doing, no one will pay you for, and the idea of your calendar being filled, already, from 8 to 5, Monday through Friday from now till you die, ensuring that you will never be able to spend your life doing it…

Is terrifying.

It’s depressing.

It’s horrible and it makes you want to become a communist or maybe join antifa so you can maybe one day burn your boss’s house down.

Your boss.

God, you hate your boss.

That bastard. That bitch. Asking you to stay late and come in early. Finding fault with everything you do. Coming up with excuses not to give you a raise or time off or a promotion. Wanting you to travel. Be away from you family. Your kids. Owning you. Owning your time. Really, when you get down to it, how much semantical difference is there between the word “boss” and the word “master”? Or between the word “employee” and the word “slave”? Somedays you feel like a slave. Maybe even most days. Yes, sure, technically you’re not because, in theory, you could quit at anytime and leave but then…

“What will I eat?”

Back to the Animal Condition.

Back to the Default Settings of Life.

So maybe you’re not a slave but, also… really… how free are you?

It’s a fair question.

…

“Fuck You” Money.

That’s what people want. A coarse, vulgar expression grown in common usage by a proletariat dreaming of enough funds to walk away from their jobs. Dreaming, fruitlessly, for enough funds to finally be free. To have control over their time. To own their own days. To be able to look at a calendar without dread knowing that, actually, next Tuesday I’m free.

… I’m free.

…

You will never get “Fuck You” Money.

It won’t happen. Neurosurgeons don’t get Fuck You Money and they’re Neurosurgeons. They still spend their lives paying off student loans and mortgages and trying to get their kids through school. They’re still waiting for retirement. They’re still hoping, one day, to be free.

The System ain’t set up for that. The System is not set up for you to go your own way. Unless you are one of the lucky few that strikes gold in a cryptocurrency scam or wrings a trillion dollars from the blood of your enemies in a gladiator style Mr. Beast YouTube Video, it’s not going to happen.

It won’t.

The System is set up such that you are pressured, at every turn, to be in debt in proportion to your income. Mortgage is a French and Latin word. Mort like mortality. Gage (same root as “wage”) meaning pledge, or promise. A mortgage is a death pledge. You’re supposed to be indebted till you die.

This… all of this… is what I call Babylon. The system of Satan. The system of Fear. And getting out of it cannot be done by acquiring wealth or by working harder. That’s a fool’s errand. It is the hamster thinking that if he just runs a little faster on his wheel, he’ll at last end up getting somewhere. No. Getting out instead requires something different. A slave to Money cannot by Money be freed. It requires a vibe shift. It requires courage. It requires Faith.

To begin, step one (and you’re not going to like step one), you have to…