Can cold, hard cash help us be more mindful?

Using money to pay closer attention

Words & images © Paul Ransom

What if I told you cash was a spiritual practise? It would likely seem absurd. Money is the root of all evil. Every messiah says so. And look around: hyper capitalism and the nose-down/bum-up pursuit of profit is driving unsustainable resource use, underwriting gross inequality, and reducing your wellbeing to a shopping list.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. There is a flip and, by holding it in your hand, it can release you from passive consumerism. Framed in the right way, cash can be the currency of greater mindfulness.

This is why I am still a monetary caveman, foregoing cards and smartphones for folded notes and clunky coinage.¹ True, it’s inconvenient – but that’s a big part of the upside. It is precisely because cash is difficult and fiddly, (especially for those of us with eyesight issues), that it registers. I notice it. Every time.

When you see something in front you, when it is immediately tangible rather than abstract, you gain a sharper focus; and with that, you can create moments of conscious choosing.  

The catalyst here is twofold: slower + more visible.

In a click & go world of light speed 24/7 convenience it is too easy to proceed with automated blindness. To lose track. How many of us have woken up to the shock of the monthly card spend? Or got home wondering why we bought that formerly must-have item? 

When we move too fast, we overlook. Make choices we later wish we hadn’t. Become careless. Forget. It’s not just that we don’t stop to do the math, it’s that we don’t pause to properly notice what we are doing.

Don’t beat yourself up. We all do it – and going back to cash won’t make you immune, but it can help you pay closer attention and, from there, improve your impulse control and budgetary discipline, and deeper still, disentangle need from want. Indeed, the bottom line with physical currency is that it prompts us to add up the true cost of our desires. If only because we can see it more clearly.

1: Visibility

Cash is easier to count. Money in your pocket feels more real than the digital alternative. You can see it dwindling in front of your eyes. You notice, in a more tangible way, the rate, patterns, and effects of your spending. In turn, this can help you manage your budget.  

Beyond this, an even more powerful take-out: It is easier to stick to targets and maintain discipline when there is an unambiguous, easily accessible physical reminder. Because…

• Habits can become addictions when we lose track of them
• They can become more conscious choices when we notice them
• When we are alive to our choices, we weigh cost & benefit with more care
• We will often choose differently – and break cycles – when we create opportunities to notice the details of our behaviour

This equates to mindfulness, which we typically associate with spirituality. However, so much of what we call spiritual is simply paying attention – and even unenlightened Earthly beings like us can manage this.

2: Slowing down

Paying attention is easier when we are not in a rush. Indeed, in the hectic blur of the pay/wave society, slowing down is a nigh revolutionary act. More than holding up the impatient shoppers behind you, it buys you time to change your mind. To notice your own behaviour.

• When we notice, we become less automatic
• When we are less automatic, we are more conscious
• When we are more conscious, we examine our actions in more detail
• When we see the details more clearly, we are more likely to make tweaks

I have found that deliberately opting for the inconvenient process of fetching cash from my wallet and counting out bills has led me to cancel certain purchases; or at least to say no to add-ons and side serves.

So what, you say. What’s a few bucks? Why bother? Simple…because the slower, clumsier process of handling cash is less about saving money, and more about understanding something profound in the action of impulses and desires.

Most of them are fleeting. Blink, and you’re over it.

By slowing me down, fumbling for change creates breathing space, thereby giving me the chance to ‘let it go.’ Or rather, to see what I am doing and flag the possibility of not doing it again.

Again, cash as mindfulness mechanism.

*

It is sometimes said that mindfulness begins with being mindful. This may seem unhelpful. However, there is a clear call-to-action here. Find a way to start.

So often we overwhelm ourselves by thinking about final destinations, or distant, seemingly unobtainable outcomes. Yet, if we switch our focus to process, we can break mountains down into steps. And this is where cash comes in. As a start point. A mechanism.

• Of course, you could choose any number of means, but I have elected to go with money because of its pivotal role in our lives. As both a practical tool and psycho-emotional barometer, it operates on levels of survival and security, dreams and desires, and confidence and capacity. (Put more simply, utility and power.) For me, it provides the perfect cue for a deep dive into my behaviours, beliefs, and states of mind.

Switching to a cash-first preference activates a tangible and (quite likely) frequent trigger. As you handle the notes and count out the coins, take a moment to notice your spending – your choices, and the beliefs and desires that drive them.

Here is where inconvenience can help. Going to your bank or finding an ATM takes time. It also forces you to nominate an amount. Not only does this help to set parameters (limits) but it serves to create a greater sense of value. I have this amount, etcetera.

Convenience is great but it is also a trap. Addiction metaphors apply. This is why baking in slower, more difficult processes can help us be more mindful – because they take more time and effort and are less unthinking.

• Difficulty & deliberation drive focus & discipline
• Focus & discipline support impulse control
• Impulse control underwrites a longer-term, more holistic self-interest

None of this is rocket science, yet using cash rather than cards can kick-start a daily ritual of paying closer attention, thereby nudging us towards a focus and discipline that can result in a greater sense of freedom and agency.        

In this way, money and mindfulness are entwined; and in an economy of quick fixes and maxed credit cards, there is something delightfully rebellious and empowering about conscious cash over passive pay points.

Whereas some will argue that mindfulness is over-rated – or a plaything of the privileged, virtue signalling elite – I would suggest that being more conscious about the ways we use the dynamic tool of money can bring benefit for all of us, personally and more broadly. Aside from any socio-political objective, using our hip pockets to help us be more conscious about our habits, and to understand our various desires, strikes me as a much better form of retail therapy than bleeping up debt and filling our cupboards with junk we will later consign to landfill.

• For a deeper dive into what I call active consumerism, check out We Buy Ourselves On Credit elsewhere on this site.

Using cash makes my spending more visible. In turn, this lets me consider all my purchases with more care. As a result, I have developed excellent budgeting habits. Call it greater discipline. And discipline is the key to freedom.

I may not be wealthy in relative terms, but I live rich, because my desires do not outstrip my capacity to fulfill them. It may sound esoteric, but this is the abundance of less. For I neither miss nor crave what I do not truly want.

Clunky, inconvenient cash has helped me immeasurably in this. This is why I am no longer afraid to say…

I love money.

Insert link to famous Monty Python sketch.

1: To be clear, my cash preference is far from 100% spiritual. Although I do not indulge in the paranoia and jihadist zeal of conspiracy theorists and sundry doom-cultists, it is clear that cash spending is, in one important regard, untraceable. Not only do the eyes of shopkeepers light up when they see the tax-free bills, but those who wish to track and sell our purchase data remain blind to our retail record. (My trigger for this came in the late 90s when a friend was refused a car loan because the bank deemed her spending too frivolous. She had a thing for buying lingerie on credit and the prudish loan insurers took fright at the thought of all sexy underwear. Point being, it was an early wake-up call.) Digital currency may be invisible to the spender, but it is entirely visible to both the issuers and the monitors. In this way, cash is a form of economic disobedience. Bottom line, if you do not want a cashless society, keep using it. Buy the world you want.