If I Were a Rich Man…

Every now and then, a song suddenly means something completely different from what it meant when you first heard it.

This morning I thought of Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof:

“If I were a rich man…”

As a child, or even as a younger adult, you hear that and think it is about money.

A bigger house.
More comfort.
People helping you.
Not having to work quite so hard.

But Tevye’s dream was actually much more interesting than that.

He dreamed of having time.

Time to think.
Time to read.
Time to talk about the things that interested him.
Time to live instead of spending every waking hour simply keeping life going.

And then I suddenly realised something rather funny.

I am more or less there.

I am retired now.

I still work, but only a few half-days a week. And I work because I still enjoy what I do, not because every hour of my week has to be sold.

I have almost enough help around the house to stop the house itself from becoming a full-time occupation.

And perhaps the nicest surprise of all is that people seem to value my professional advice more now than they did when I was working much harder.

Maybe experience has something to do with that.

After decades of working with people, studying, making mistakes, changing my mind, learning more and watching what actually works, you become less interested in proving how much you know.

You become much more interested in seeing what matters.

And perhaps people notice that.

There is something rather luxurious about being able to sit with a problem, think about it properly and say what you really think — without having twelve more things waiting behind it.

So no, I am not Tevye’s millionaire.

But if being rich means having enough, having time, being able to choose how much you work, having help with the things you no longer want to spend your days doing, and still being useful to other people…

then perhaps I should stop singing:

“If I were a rich man…”

and start admitting:

“Actually, Tevye… I think I got there.” 😉