I was listening to NPR this morning and one of their correspondents went out into the street to ask passersby about their fears. Not “normal” fears, mind you, but deep seated ones that dominate their mind. The answers were as varied as you might expect – jobs/joblessness, Donald Trump, crime, etc. As I listened to this news story, it got me to think about what I’m afraid of.

The answer wasn’t surprising: money.

I’ve always worried about money. For years, I manipulated my paychecks so that the maximum allowable amount could go into savings. Through multiple moves and a divorce, I made sure that the amount in my account continued to grow rather than shrink. Even now, I labor towards that goal (and am super lucky that my wife is on board with the strategy). The problem now is that everything in this world seems to be working against that goal – the economy is floundering, wages are stagnating, and interest rates are going up.

Thing’s don’t look promising.

It’s easy to talk about all the things that are happening around us, but I’m going to focus on me. Why am I afraid of money?

There are things that everyone wants to do in life and, for fear of sounding too much like a millennial, not having money keeps you from doing these things. For instance, my wife and I eventually want to have a child and buy a house together. In order to do this, we have to have enough money to pay for regular checkups while she is pregnant AND a hospital stay at the end of the whole thing. For the house, we’d need 20% down to avoid paying PMI (another topic for another time). In today’s economy, that amount of money can be considered astronomical depending on where you live. It definitely won’t be cheap here…

Thinking about these things, the question I ask myself isn’t “what kind of car am I going to drive?” or “how big will my house be?”, but “will my wife and I be ok?”. This becomes so scary nowadays because everything can change at the drop of a hat. For millions of American’s in the same region of middle class, I’m sure these questions exist and the scariest thing is that there isn’t much that can be done to plan for all the potential outcomes. Even if every spare cent was placed into a bank account and not touched, a single unfortunate circumstance can wipe it all away.

Thinking in the long term, I’m not entirely sure my fear isn’t more rooted in something more akin to “sustainability”. To a degree, that word feels more accurate since I tend to worry about how my thin margin of error will lead me to retirement and a comfortable life with my wife, unborn children, and pets. That path is the long one and I can do naught, but walk it with as much courage as I can muster.

And since I’m a nerd, as I write that last line, I can’t help but think of something I read long ago (from Frank Herbert’s Dune, of course):

“I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

I will face my fear.

I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”