The last few days I found myself afloat in a curious confluence of lofty spiritual notions and a rehash of boring fundamentals of accounting and economic trends. It all started with the May 2009 issue of the Shambhala Sun, which ran a piece by John Tarrant with the catchy title “The Buddha and Suze Orman.” I suppose it was that teaser that had me shell out the nearly 7 bucks, which is the price of the magazine, and which is a considerable sum these days, when so much writing, even on such subjects can be had for "free" online.
Tarrant, in his piece, compares the elements of the noble truths of Buddhism and Orman’s insistence on her show that people take stock of their resources and face up to what they can and can’t afford based on numbers, and not on their wishful thinking about who they are. In this, according to Tarrant, Suze Orman is spreading the Buddha’s message that we must see through the dream in this life. You know, that dream which is at the root of all our suffering. Facing our financial limits with this in mind becomes aspiritual wakening of sorts, a kind of reckoning with our reality, and a way to end suffering.
Oddly enough, when I picked up a copy of this weekend’s The New York Times Magazine, there on the cover was Suze Orman, finger wagging in the blue air of the background. The image suggested a combination of moralism and bubble-headed entertainment, in sharp contrast to the leopard-print clad Orman opposite from the Buddha in The Shambhala Sun. The take on Suze as an emissary or gentle guide on the path to enlightenment, financial or otherwise was a lot less lofty in The New York Times Magazine piece than it was in Tarrant's essay.
By the time I got to the essay “The Death of Kings” by Nick Paumgarten in the May 18 issue of The New Yorker, the idea that financial ruin and spiritual awakening may well run on parallel tracks didn’t seem all that odd. Not surprisingly, the “emissaries” in this essay who pointed to the bear market as the dispellers of illusions, did grab my attention. Chalk one up for the accountants then, at least for the ones for whom the ledgers are a kind of sacred text:
“Truth in accounting—the proper recognition of losses and liabilities, the acknowledgment of inconvenient facts—is a kind of virtue. Credit relies on a foundation of trust, which comes from honesty and fair dealing. The bull market, we’ve learned, did away with these things. Enthusiasm, in the presence of lucre, tends toward rapacity.”
So, if you find the Upanishads too quaint for your taste, or the Bhagavad Gita holds no insights for you, juts whip out your checkbook and take a look at your account balance. It might just change your life -- and prove to be truly enlightening in the bargain.
