Dear Money,

I am writing this letter to you, a long overdue letter. It is time we get it out in the open, once and forever. This subtle, up-and-down non-sense has gone on long enough.

Let's start on a positive note, shall we?

Thank you. I do appreciate the opportunities you have presented to me. I love my home for example. Yes, I know I cannot take it with me, but as long as I am here, I am deeply appreciative of it.

I watch my wife Lisa, play her guitar and do her photography. Without you, neither would have happened. Her joy is my joy.

Do I even need to mention my martial arts, particularly Systema?! They have been the best non-living thing to ever happen. And yes, the trips to W. Palm or Toronto would not have occurred without you.

For these and so much more, I am thankful to you.

You know what's coming now.

I am also angry with you. Because of you I have had a terribly painful experience yesterday. Details are not important but suffice it to say, the end result is that I chose to be totally truthful with myself. And that one was just the latest in a long, long, long line of pain events because of you.

And it hurts. It is brutal.

I might as well start being truthful with you now. I am not angry with you. I am angry with me.

I have allowed you to dictate so much of my life. The examples are seemingly endless. My business is a success, and you visit frequently. So I feel good. Because of you.

My books did not sell well. You did not visit much. So I feel poorly. Because of you.

I have lost out on so many potentially amazing experiences because I based my decisions on you. I have worked too hard because of you. I have lost out on joy, happiness and other glorious emotions and instead chose worry, fear and doubt. All based on you.

Damn you. I don't know how or when, but I have allowed you to take over my life.

Until now! Yesterday was too much. I saw what can happen to others and I refuse to allow you to be be my ruler any more. In fact, you no longer get a say in any of my decisions.

You are nothing but a piece of paper backed up by (worthless) IOU notes from a criminal organization called the Fed. You are a concept. A thought. You are not even real. You cannot feel the pure love of another human being or an animal. You cannot experience the joy of teaching or having a positive impact on another. Or the taste of key lime pie or opening a present on Christmas. Nothing at all.

Time for a change. Rules are what I say they are now, until the end of my days.

Just to prove my point, I signed up for the London Systema training next year, so F#@ you. There really is a new sheriff in town!

You will find me, but you will not define me.

You will be drawn to me, but you will not dictate what I do or where I go.

You are my servant, not my master.

You are no longer the focal point. You are a toy to be used to collect experiences that will improve my life and the lives of those around me.

I don't give a rat's ass if you like these rules or not. They are my truth. They are written in stone. You have no choice but to follow them, to follow me.

My life was good. It is about to get GREAT.

Thank you money. I am glad we had this chat.

Your friend,


Author's Bio: 

David Orman is the creator of