58 – February 27
“Just as a sunbeam can’t separate itself from the sun and a wave can’t separate itself from the ocean, we can’t separate ourselves from one another. We are all part of a vast sea of love; one indivisible divine mind.”—Marianne Williamson
I invented “Campbell Cash” for my workshops, in order to play a game like the one the cruise line’s “Ship Shape” dollars. I had pretty green coffee mugs made to use as a prize, with dollar signs, hearts, and prosperity affirmations on them.
I was excited about putting this game into practice at my next workshop. At the first session of the eight-week class, I explained that participants could buy them only with “Campbell Cash” dollars on the last day of the class. They would receive a “Campbell Cash” dollar each time they came to class and each time they did their homework. I would also give out additional dollars from time to time when people had special “wins” or accomplishments in managing or making more money. They needed fifteen of them in order to buy the mug.
Just as on the cruise ship, people jumped into the game of getting as many “Campbell Cash” dollars as they could. They looked for “wins” in their week that they could share in class, they came to class, and they did their homework. People learned to ask for money—they got very creative and kept asking me, “Do I get a dollar for that?” It built an energy and excitement that carried over throughout the workshop.
A few people still had some difficulties with the homework, or with asking for a special dollar. What was I going to do if some people didn’t get their fifteen dollars needed to buy the mug on the last day of class? God forbid anyone should leave class without a mug. I was still unsure of the best thing to do when the day of the last class arrived. Looking around the room, I asked everyone to count their dollars. As they added up their total, I saw some people looking proud and happy, and others looking a little sad.
I asked Linda in the front row how many dollars she had. “Seventeen,” she said proudly. “Congratulations!” I said, “You get a mug!” I turned to Lana sitting next to her and asked how many she had. “Only fourteen,” she said sadly. Without the briefest hesitation, Linda turned to her and gave her a dollar. A ripple of love and wonder thrilled through the room as everyone sighed with happiness and understanding. They knew what to do. The next person had sixteen dollars, got her congratulations, then promptly handed her extra dollar to the man following her who only had fourteen. It continued this way until everyone in the room had enough to win their mug. There was a loving smile on every face, and a tear in every eye. Especially mine. And it has happened like that in every class since.
Is there someone in your life who needs your dollar in order to get their prize?
“I have great abundance in my life and plenty to share with others.”
What was clear in my class was that each person got one mug for sixteen dollars. If they accumulated more dollars, they still just got one mug. Nobody really had a burning desire for two, three, six, or twelve mugs. The competition spurred them on during the class because it was fun to win, and fun to be acknowledged for their success. If they had dollars left over after redeeming their mug, those extra dollars were now worthless to them. But they were still valuable to the people who didn’t have enough to get a mug.
No one ever suggested that they would sell their extra dollars, or barter something else in exchange for them. Everyone in the group had bonded over the eight weeks of the class, and everyone wanted everyone else in the group to be successful. People were genuinely delighted that they were able to help someone else get their mug. And it didn’t cost them anything.
One of the problems in today’s world is that people feel they have to bank endless numbers of dollars because they might need them someday. It doesn’t matter that they have all they need right now, and they’ve got their mug. They’re fearful of the day they might not have it.
What if they break it or lose it? What if it’s stolen? What if they get old or sick or lose their job and can’t get another one? So they put away money to ensure their future security. But how much is enough? One million dollars? Two million? Six billion? How much money stays out of circulation as a hedge against imagined future disasters? How many people go without their mug while others stockpile mug upon mug upon mug?
I’d like to live in a society that guarantees every neighbor has at least one mug. Then after that, if especially talented and you want to accumulate more, if you like competitive games, you can go for it. Collect ten or twenty mugs. A garage full of mugs. Knock yourself out.