“If you keep chasing money, you’re going to keep chasing it,” my mom used to tell me. “If you do what you love, the money will come to you.”
She (if you haven’t yet noticed from Part 1 of this series until now) is full of wisdom.
But what she didn’t seem to have the answer to was, if I do what I love but the money doesn’t come, what then?
It was a predicament I was in back then, and kinda sorta am still.
Thankfully, though, going through Ken Honda’s Money EQ program on Mindvalley has got me wondering if I’ve been looking at this all wrong.
Practice (wise) selfishness
Money is often associated with selfishness; it’s true. Research has found that the more money people have, the stingier and more selfish they become.
So it was a shocker that Ken would even suggest such a thing. Does happy money = being selfish?
In a way, according to Ken. He frames it as the “put your oxygen mask on first” concept, just in different words.
“We are so afraid that if we do what we love, if we become selfish and start following our own needs, we may ignore the people, we might hurt other people, or we feel guilty that by doing what we love, we could hurt people,” he says.
Those beliefs are very much ingrained in Asian culture. I’ve seen it firsthand.
A few years ago, my brother fell on hard times. Without getting into the details, he was broke and homeless. Meanwhile, the rest of us had roofs over our heads, food on the table, and steady income…all our basic needs met.
From his point of view, it looked like we were being stingy, selfish, and maybe even cold (even though we were sending him money). And he’d remind us of it, too.
His reaction represents what most people misunderstand about self-prioritization: that taking care of yourself first means abandoning others. Not completely (because we still sent him money, checked in, and did what we could), but enough to keep our own cups from running dry.
It’s what Ken calls “wise selfishness.”
“You have to really give yourself first and nurture yourself first,” he says. It’s not about being a taker but about nurturing yourself so that what overflows becomes genuine giving.
The dark side of it
Obviously, sharing is caring. However, as Ken explains, if you keep putting others’ needs before your own, “you feel dissatisfied, and you feel frustrated all the time.”
In retrospect, I could relate. I was always taught to give, but not so much to receive. Many times when my family found themselves in a jam, it was me whom they turned to to find a solution.
And I wonder if that mental load is what led to the cancer. It could be hearsay, but I can’t deny that the only time I’ve felt like I’ve gotten a break from family duties is when I was sick.
My therapist recently asked me, “Why do you do it?” (To which I responded, if not me, then who? Total helper syndrome, if I do say so myself.)
This is what Asian culture, in general, is all about, though. The norm is to prioritize family harmony and responsibility over individual needs.
Unfortunately, that can blur the line between love and obligation. And, according to Ken, when you’re giving from an empty cup, you can end up with resentment that the giving isn’t being reciprocated.
Caring for others becomes the very thing that drains you. As he adds, “Unless you’re a saint like Mother Teresa, it’s hard to support other people.”
Do what you love, says Ken
Now back to my mother, who was totally advising me to “job my love” waaay before Vishen ever did. And it’s awesome to know that Ken, too, advises this.
“If you do what you love, people will appreciate you,” he says. “In order to be in the flow of happy money, you have to do what you love, because what you love attracts money, and also what you enjoy will also bring another opportunity.”
So do what you love = happy money. Got. It.
Buuut…if that’s the case, I should’ve been swimming in it years ago.
You see, I took the road less traveled, having dropped out of college and, instead, taking up aromatherapy in Croatia. I loved everything about it. The oils, the massages, and how I helped make people feel after a therapeutic experience. I knew it was a natural gift, and I was so happy I followed it.
But when I moved back to Malaysia, the perception of massages was different. Here, they were seen as lowly, even linked to “extra services,” if you know what I mean.
“You work in a spa?” relatives would ask me. “Why don’t you be a receptionist instead?”
There was such a bombardment of it that even my mom ended up joining the bandwagon. “Do you have to work in a spa?” she would ask.
Needless to say, my imposter syndrome had a field day. And looking around at me, my friends were getting into banking, working in media, rubbing shoulders with local celebrities, making high four figures, and, at the very least, marrying rich.
I, on the other hand, was a spa therapist. Making minimum wage. And running nowhere near the children of the 1%.
Passion doesn’t pay the bills
So if I was doing what I loved, why was I stuck at the bare minimum?
“Oftentimes, people who do what they love, they become self-centered or that they become too arrogant,” says Ken. Not me, I don’t think.
“So they start to think that they should enjoy my dish, they should enjoy my speech, they should appreciate my music or writings,” he continues. (Also not, I’m pretty sure.)
“But sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t,” he adds. (Okay, so what’s your point, Ken?)
“So you have to make sure whatever you do, whatever you love to do, make sure that other people also fall in love with you,” he goes on to explain. “If other people, and many people, don’t fall in love with you, you’re not going to get any cash.”
Ahhh, and there it is. Perhaps the reason the money flow as a spa therapist was a dripping pipe was because people (ahem, my relatives) were not jobbing my love as much as I was.
It’s an interesting thing to reflect on, especially with me now being a writer. That’s a much more “respectable” profession in the eyes of my culture. And the more I share my articles with the world, the more money flows.
… Which leads me to wonder: if I were to have shared my love of spas back then, would the flow be a waterfall? It’s hard to say now, but I would like to think it would.
And you?
I know I’ve been rambling on in this segment, but it does help to do so into the void once in a while.
So I’ll leave you with this question Ken asks in his program:
If you were super selfish, what would you do?
Would you choose to do what you love? And what emotion comes up when you answer it?
For me, I used to feel guilty for having a privileged life. But now, I know I can use it to help others. And for that, I’m eternally grateful.
On the chance that you totally get how I feel, then send me a message.
Let’s trade stories about the things we love, the ones we almost gave up on, and what it’s taken to keep them alive. xo