On Being Rich

By Dr. Judith Briles








With the arrival of the new Millennium, it was impossible to avoid the feelings of many that this was a good time to look forward, learn from the past and truly plan the rest of your life. Most likely, you probably reflected back to the previous months/years and weighed whether they were great…good…so-so…or dismal. Usually that measurement entails how much money you have--more than before? Because we are in a new century, I would like to challenge you to probe deeper, asking yourself instead, "Are you rich?"


The Past Changes the Future
To help set the tone, let me probe into my own past decade or two. I had great years…good years…so-so years…and absolutely dismal ones. My own answer to "What does being rich mean?" started with a phone call in November of 1981. Back then, my family "had it all." A beautiful home (including pool and hot tub) in an exclusive section of Northern California, two Mercedes, investments, kids in private schools, a vacation condo at Lake Tahoe, a prosperous business, the respect of our community, and a huge circle of friends. Life couldn't be better. . .or so we thought. That phone call was from one of the banks I worked with in San Francisco. It was a call that would change our lives overnight.


In the old days--the great, good ones--I used to raise money for various ventures, usually in the millions. I loved old buildings, buying and restoring them gave me immense pleasure. One of my favorite projects was the restoration of an old laundry. It was going to enjoy a new life as a small European style hotel. The financial projections looked terrific. All the partners would get tax deductions, annual cash flow, and a handsome profit when the project was projected to sell in 5 years. What more could we want?


The November phone call came from the bank that had underwritten the construction loan, and I was summoned to a meeting and told to "Bring your most recent net worth statement." It was a horrible meeting, quickly followed by a series of other meetings. I discovered that my partner of two years and her partners had taken on another partner. Unfortunately, she didn't advise me of the relationship, and I was too naive and trusting to see all the warning signals. My partner and friend was deeply involved in drugs. The other investor partners and I had unknowingly paid for them.


After an audit, we determined that over $450,000 was missing from a construction loan that I had personally guaranteed. The loan officer (at what was quickly becoming my least favorite bank) wanted to know how I was going to pay off the discrepancy--could I write a check to cover it? The only answer he wanted to hear was, "Of course." I was stunned. Stunned and angry, incredibly angry. My husband walked around in a cloud, not fully comprehending what "paying off the loan" meant to us.


No Time for Wasting Time
A family "pow-wow" was called. Everything was laid out for all to see and hear. Our three teens had no idea how much their life style would change in the coming months. They were told that there was a very high probability that we would lose everything--the house in the elite neighborhood, the resort condo, private schools, expensive vacations. And they were told, "We don't want any BS from any of you. No demands--we are fighting for our lives."


Where did the fight take us? On an incredible journey. In the end, we lost everything that we had worked for. The home, the condo, both cars, jewelry, antiques, artwork, the business, private schooling, investments, savings--everything. Over $1,000,000! Our comfortable net worth was now in the red. We even lost many of our "friends." In the middle of it all, my health took a nosedive, landing me in the hospital for three surgeries, including cancer. I felt that my life was a mess, that I would never be able to make the money I had in the past, that my reputation would always be mud, and that I was a total loser.


Truth be told, I certainly didn't feel rich. I felt homeless, lonely, betrayed, hurt, angry, and sick. Did I recover? Yes. Did I become rich? You bet. Next week, I'll tell you how.


my introductory column, I left you in the middle of my chaos. I had passed the brink of financial ruin: we had lost a home that would sell for several million dollars in today's market; people whom I had always considered "good friends" suddenly vanished; my health was deteriorating; and I was seriously wondering how I would support my family. In truth, not living was becoming an increasingly attractive option with each new day.


Sounds pretty bleak, doesn't it? It was, but none of it was as bad as Labor Day, 1983. In the wee hours of the morning, a lone policeman stood in our living room and told us that our 19-year-old son was dead. It was "an accident, a drowning." The ache I experienced was unbearable. Frank's death was everywhere--TV, Radio, and the newspapers. Now, I truly felt as if I had lost everything. I doubted that I would survive, and I didn't really want to.


Getting Back on Track
Strange as it sounds, being broke and hurting so badly restored balance to my life. My son's death quickly revealed what was and wasn't important. Family mattered. So did health. Friends counted (those who had remained loyal). Faith was important. Having a lot of money and being a candidate for consumer of the year wasn't at the top of the list.


Getting back on track did not occur overnight. It took years, some of it in little steps and some of it in leaps. My experience resembled an elevator--at times, it moved one floor at a time (up and down) and at other times, it skipped ahead several floors.


The first "move" was to change my attitude. I did want to live--I had two great daughters, and soon a grandson would arrive. I started writing again--my book, When God Says NO, begins with Frank's death. I worked on improving my public speaking, tapping into the areas that I was writing about--finding your confidence and courage in the face of adversity. A personal goal was to own a home again--we moved from the Bay Area to Denver, Colorado, where I was able to negotiate a lease option on a home using my last piece of art that I couldn't sell before the move. Three years ago, we sold it to build our dream home. And finally, I got my health back--it's been 17 years since I won my battle against cancer.


And as for the money? Do I have a million dollars again? No, at least not yet, but here's what I do have: a home that I love; two healthy, grown children with whom I get along great; a 13-year-old grandson who is the best of the best; good health; a terrific marriage after 27 years; money invested in retirement accounts and mutual funds that I add to each month and confidence that I can choose to stop working at 65.


You Don't Have to Lose It All...
Too often, we measure who we are by what we have--our possessions, friends, social status, car, vacations, the market value of our homes, and the amount of money we make. Am I advocating losing it all to get in balance, like I did? Absolutely not. Take a lesson from me and you'll reduce the learning curve.


My Millennium gift to you is to encourage you to look in the mirror and ask what is really important. Is it money? Your job? Reputation? Family? Friends? Health? You don't have to lose it all to find what matters most. The real shortcut is being truthful with yourself and letting the important stuff rise to the top. That's where your energy should go, not to issues, events, or whatever dwells on the bottom of your list. Look in your mirror, listen, act, and remember. Then you will be rich beyond your dreams