And the economic meltdown?
It’s created an environment in which the deleterious effects of fast money have become painfully obvious to everyone. It’s allowing us to jump to the next level of the conversation much more quickly.
Earlier, you talked about “having a shot at surviving long-term.” Are you really that pessimistic?
Realistically, I think the odds of our working our way through all our monumental problems are one percent or less.
That said, I wake up every day in that hopeful one percent, knowing there’s no shortage of things to do. It won’t be easy to get out of the corner we’ve painted ourselves into, but it’s not impossible, either. We can’t let ourselves be paralyzed because if we put one foot in front of another and head in the right direction, you never know what we’ll find.
I think about this in terms of money. We need to get it flowing in a qualitatively different way. We need to slow it down. If we can accomplish this, even with small amounts of capital, who knows what changes will follow?
I live on one acre of land in northern New Mexico at 8,300 feet. It’s famous for its communally-managed irrigation systems, called acequias. When you watch the first water coming onto your land, it’s an amazing and inspiring experience. It’s also a metaphor for slow money. We need money to percolate instead of circulate. We need money, like water, to seep into the culture in a way that makes life possible.
Watching the water come onto the land is a profound source of hope for me.
To find out more about Slow Money: www.slowmoneyalliance.org.
