On the Fiction of Money — and Its Ethical Reclamation

Friday, April 25, 2025

Money is not real.
It is a system of signs, a projection of trust onto a symbol, an agreement codified into digits or paper, devoid of intrinsic meaning. It is not gold. It is not energy. It is not life. It is an abstract placeholder — and yet, entire lives are bent around it.

The tragedy is not that money exists. The tragedy is that it has become the measure of existence itself.

In its current form, money is dead matter circulating through dead systems. It rewards extraction, not creation; manipulation, not presence. It flows toward accumulation, not toward care. It is hoarded by those who have stopped feeling, and denied to those who still try to breathe.

Accumulation is not security.
It is fear solidified.

And yet — money is not inherently corrupt.
It is a vessel. An interface. A neutral medium that reflects the intention of its use.

There is another way.
A way in which money is not worshipped, nor feared, but handled with lucidity and aligned with a higher frequency.
A way in which it becomes a vector of transformation, not a tool of domination.
A way in which it circulates not to prove value, but to support presence, depth, alignment.

To spend with intention is a sacred act.
To receive without shame is a reclaiming.
To release without guilt is a form of clarity.

Ethical money does not mean poverty.
It means precision.
It means refusing the excess that disconnects, and rejecting the scarcity that controls.
It means choosing resonance over status, necessity over vanity, life over image.

In the hands of the lucid, money becomes a temporary fire — enough to cross a threshold, light a signal, nourish a soul.
No more.
No less.

Let the hoarders keep their vaults.
Let the lucid keep the path.