SMOKE MEN AND THE TIME SLIPPING THROUGH OUR HANDS

The concept we dismiss as "worldly affairs" is, in reality, the boundlessness of our desires—something we are all aware of. Is that why people place so much importance on their bucket lists before they die? Or why an individual becomes impatient to fulfill the responsibilities required to achieve everything they want? It seems that the speed at which our desires come true is crucial.

But is it really that important to have so many desires?

Is it the pursuit of our desires that motivates us in life?

Isn’t working for such long hours simply a result of trying to fulfill our wants? A child grows up, finishes school, and says, “I want to fulfill my mother’s dream; she wants a house, and the first thing I’ll do is buy her one.” An adult had a desire but couldn’t achieve it, so the responsibility to fulfill it is passed on to the next generation. Desires end up taking over another person’s life, transferring like a genetic inheritance from mother to son.

If we constantly work hard to fulfill our desires, does that mean if we desire less, we will work less? Life tests us with an equation: want less, earn less, work less. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if our list of desires never shrank, but the time we spent working for them did?

Impossible, isn’t it?

Once, the son of someone we knew told his father, “You work so hard because I want so many toys, but I don’t want any toys—just to see you.”

Desires and the time they buy from us.

Just like in Momo by Michael Ende, where the Men in Grey purchase people's time, the world we live in feels like a similar construct—where our time is being bought by our desires.

Although it appears to be a children’s book, Momo is a story for all ages. It tells of the Men in Grey who come to town and engage in a ruthless trade with adults, purchasing their time. Meanwhile, children are left increasingly isolated. It’s as if desires have taken the form of the Men in Grey, ruling over the world.

Yet, there is one thing we must all remember:

The only thing money cannot buy is time.

And time is more valuable than anything we could ever purchase.

What if material desires diminished?

What if simplicity became our greatest necessity?

What if sharing the excess and the unused became our priority?

What if we no longer had to work more and more just to have more? What if we could attain the greatest wealth of all—the most precious treasure of all—by creating a world where time no longer slipped through our fingers?

Wouldn't the world be a wonderful place then?