I'm pretty sure that this fable is a modern myth, dressed up in scientism.
Yet, like the fables of the old, it's a good one. Especially for everyone like us - lovers of freedom. What the modern version lacks in narrative, it compensates with simplicity.
The story goes, as we all know, that we can feed monkeys sweet, irresistible cookies. Or banana, I suppose, but there is something more illustrative and diabolical with an artificial cookie, so we’ll go with that. If we give the monkeys a few cookies, they learn to crave it. Then we can construct a simple trap.
If it had been a fable of the old, it would have had a little bit more soul to it, and would have gone something like this.
It all starts with our young monkey in the jungle, who one day fell out of his tree, and found himself in a glade that he had never seen before.
In that glade, the sunlight shone through the canopy on the strangest and most beautiful, yet outlandish thing the monkey had ever seen; a beautiful, colourful cookie, covered with the sweetest of frosting.
The little monkey went close, and sniffed the cookie.
The cookie smelled like all the fruits the monkey had eaten and could think of in the jungle, taken all together. The smell had something intense to it, as if this cookie could promise everything good with his little monkey-life; distant happy memories, present delights and future promises, the berrys and the ripe fruits, the honey of the honey-bees; yes, even love and recognition from his monkey-friends.
Sparks of joy shot up in his little monkey-brain as he tasted the cookie, and tears of bliss slowly rolled down his little monkey cheeks.
Then the monkey saw yet another cookie, a little further away.
Even before eating the new cookie, our monkey saw a small opening in the trunk of a jungle tree.
The inside of the trunk was full of shimmering cookies. The monkey ran to the tree, and luckily enough, the opening was just big enough so he could squeeze in his little monkey-hand.
The little monkey closed his little hand around one of the cookies.
The little monkey tried to get his hand out of the trunk. Strangely, it was impossible. It was as if however hard he tried, he couldn’t break free. There was just not space enough. It was truly impossible. His hand didn't fit through the opening anymore.
The little monkey started to try to figure out what to do about that, but he could not come up with a solution.
Perhaps it was time to get one of his little monkey-depressions, as sometimes happened when he didn’t get what he wanted. Or perhaps a tantrum and complaints?
Then he heard a sound in the thicket. Was there someone who would take advantage from that he was stuck in this unfair prison? Was it perhaps even dangerous?
However heart-gripping the story of our monkey is, there are indeed cookies to let go off for most of us. Letting go of the bigger house, yet another car, letting go of the summer house, that vacation escape, realize that the children will be fine without prestigious schools, and the pool and yacht will not add to our happiness, in a neverending chase as real life passes us by.
When the hunters come, in the shape of worse times, a career that doesn't work anymore, lay-offs, skills that have less value, a boss we cannot stand, or a feeling that it's all unfulfilling. Then, instead of letting go of the candy, we opt for 'burn-out', crises, depression, bitterness and we convince ourselves that we are victims.
It’s hard, and harder the more used to the cookies we’ve become, to drive in that wedge that is necessary to free ourselves from our own tree-trunk that keeps us trapped.
Yet, unclenching the fist and obtaining freedom of time is a shift of perspective that it’s as surprising as it would be for our monkey if he opened his hand. Suddenly what seemed a radical 50-70% savings become a reality. And we can escape the prison and achieve rapid financial independence and freedom.
All we need to do to obtain our freedom is to let go of the cookies.
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