Everyone aspires to greatness, but too many people spend their time watching others be great, especially fictional versions that embody greatness. Ive already written about how I was never into super heroes, I never wore a marvel shirt. I never cared *that* much about someone who I knew wasn’t real. I care about real people. I care enough about those that society holds out to the masses as those that should be emulated. The thing is, the ones that should be emulated aren’t really pedestalized or broadcasted. The ones that truly should be emulated are around you. That’s why there’s a huge difference in being Rich versus being Wealthy. That’s why the definition of “greatness” means different things to different people. For one, greatness could very well mean being famous or on the cover of a magazine, Hollywood movies, perhaps? For others, though, greatness may mean living your life to the fullest. But then that requires defining “fullest.” What is a full life? Is it truly great to live a full life? What does that look like for someone born into wealth with options to travel the world over and receive best in class education, dining on the most delectable of delicacies, and residing in resorts without worrying about the daily room rate. What is a full life for someone born poor? When every single day you have to struggle for clean water, work a dangerous job in a lithium mine, endure the eighteen hour days of a sweatshop, meticulously craft a cheap electronic device that will be shipped across the world sold for 100 times, sometimes 10,000x more than your daily wage.
What about for someone in the middle? Someone just lucky enough not to have to work 18 hours a day every day, but also… lucky enough to have to put some calculations into how long they can stay at a luxury resort.
Sounds odd, but like Ken Honda, author of many books one of which is “Happy Money,” I have grown up around and spent time with very, very wealthy people, very, very rich people, and has the immense joy of growing up around and spending time with poor people. Re-reading that sentence from my journal of a memory from when I lived in Spain replayed itself; I would always spend time chatting with, from what I gathered, refugees or immigrants. Poorly dressed, unkempt, & of middle eastern facial features. They had lived in Spain long enough to learn the language and long enough to learn how to make a quick buck: selling beer for 1 Euro to the goers of “Botellon’s (Bo-tay-yone’s)” roughly translated as Street Parties. Spanish culture, and European Culture, is admittedly different from ours over here in the US, and so are their ways of enjoying nights out. Frankly it’s a good business plan: Buy a large case of beer, ice it down, and sell it for 1 Euro. The profit margins may be small, BUT you get to enjoy your remaining stockpile from what you didn’t sell. It's a side hustle, no doubt. I define side hustle a little differently. I believe a side hustle is something that can only be done for a few hours a day due to external constraints. This case - party hours. To me, a side hustle can never have the potential to develop into a full time career. Other constraints generally have to do around originality - in this case it's beer produced elsewhere, bought at a regular price and sold at markup external to the established supply chain. Other examples are flipping items on ebay or wherever, from places like garage sales and yard sales. While it does have a full time facet - see thrift stores, I define it as a side hustle because an activity like that ultimately brings more internal fulfillment than monetary. It's just fun.
I write all that to write this, there is more knowledge to be gained from those that have nothing than there is wisdom to be gained from those that were given everything.
