Prosperity is not actually about money
Imagine waking up tomorrow to your typical “standard day.”
The iPhone on your nightstand chimes its escalating melodic tone, rousing you to another 24 hours. You tend to your ordinary, hum-drum routine — showering, preparing breakfast, catching up on the news from last night, checking social media, whatever it is that you usually do.
Yet, there is one significant difference: When you go back to the bedroom to get dressed, you notice that next to your bed, on that same end table by your phone, is a box with a shiny, red button on it.
“That's odd,” you think as you study this mysterious contraption, “I don't remember putting this here.”
On the side of the rectangle is a note: “Twentyfour hours after you press this button, a deposit will be made to your bank account, making you wealthy. No one will suffer from your gain. Only those you tell will know what happened. All you need to do is push the switch and wait.”
“This can't be real,” you think, as you pick up the device, scrutinizing it from all angles. After a few moments, you think, “What the heck? What could go wrong? I'll play,” and poke the button, expecting some response — maybe buzzing or flashing lights. Nothing, no indication that it's even working. You place the package back down, shrug your shoulders and continue about your day, counting down the time until the 24-hour period comes to an end.
Since you wouldn't receive anything for a day, would anything change immediately? Your furniture would be the same. There would still be that annoying stain on the hallway carpet. Bedroom drawers would continue to be overstuffed. No one would treat you differently. Since you are not yet wealthier — if that will even happen — those who are materialistically impressed won't yet be so, and the others just don't care.
Your health certainly wouldn't improve on the spot. That pain in your back doesn't respect how much money you have, neither does your need for eyeglasses. There's still that issue of 15 pounds you're planning to drop “one of these days” that is woefully unimpressed by what your potential, future balance sheet states. Overall, the mundane elements of life would continue just as before replete with tailgaters and robocalls.
Yet, there would be one immediate, significant shift: your attitude.
As you went about your day, there would be a sense of relief, anticipation, self- confidence and relaxation. You'd spend money more freely — bigger tips at the restaurant and higher quality clothing; maybe you'd even splurge on something you've been putting off buying. All of these actions are the results of your belief that something more is over the horizon. For that day at least, you would enjoy your life to a fuller extent. You'd celebrate life.
Here's the thing: prosperity is not actually about money; it's the feeling of relishing the moment and expecting more like it, no matter how much your income. Prosperity is neither quickly inherited wealth nor lottery winnings; it coalesces via small expectations and we bring it on whenever we want, irrespective of bank statements. For example, prosperity is supposing today will be better than you expect; assuming that the ringing phone harkens good news, not annoyances; expecting the customer service rep will treat you well, not poorly. All of these are examples of prosperity that we create with our thoughts, which are the out-picturing of our attitude. But, back to the story. First thing the next morning, you race to the bank, your young son tagging along to share in the riches. In your head are dreams of traveling to exotic places, helping the poor, and telling your boss what he can do with this dead- end job. You practically stumble over yourself with anticipation as you enter the lobby. Waiting for you at the door is the bank president. With the tellers observing with