a short story ...
One day, while I was looking for a job, I sat on a pew bench and lit a cigarette.
A gentleman passed by, he asked me to smoke too, and soon we started a conversation.
In the middle of this conversation he asked me what I was doing there on a Wednesday afternoon and I told him I needed a lot of work and he then questioned the importance of the money for me.
Naive I said that to me to have money was synonymous of happiness, of acquisition of things and trips. Have cars and get to know other places in the world.
He then told me that I was wrong to think that way. He said that money only makes happy who knows how to make other people happy with it. He said that a beetle would take me to the same place as a ferrari, that the water of the coastal beach of my state is as salty as the most disrupted beach in the world, and that while I was looking for a way to accumulate more and more money to find this false happiness I would be leaving behind great moments that would make me so happy.
Anyway ... I learned that we can not waste time looking for a build up that will not make us go back in time to enjoy those moments that we lost in our search ...