For half an hour, I had forced myself to listen to something I cared nothing about. Hal and I were talking about some new technologies for capturing real estate sales leads from our website. He’s the owner of the realty company where I work and we talk about technology quite a bit.
But this time, the discussion was purely based on finding sales leads and automating the sales funnel to turn leads into clients. The technology is powerful and realistic. I suspect it will work for us. There’s a very good chance it will be profitable.
But the truth is that I simply didn’t care.
Hal has a sales background. In fact, he’s probably the best salesperson I’ve ever known. He enjoys the process. In fact, he gets excited about it.
But as we talked — and I tried to make myself care about what we were talking about — I suddenly had a moment of clarity.
I don’t care about making money, at least for its own sake. I care about ideas. I care about causes. I care about fighting a good fight for something I believe in. When that makes money for me, it’s a nice benefit.
But I’m never going to care about making money as an end in itself.

Social media is an addictive drug, so I’m kicking my Facebook habit
What if narcissistic vampire bit me but he never finished the job?
How many warnings can life give us when something’s gone wrong?
If you want a president to ‘run the country,’ you’re missing the point
What if our best romantic decisions come by listening to ‘selfish genes’?
In a saner world, we would never hear a word about Jussie Smollett
I lost my way that night — and it seems I never found my way back