For some reason, David thought he would have a sleepless night—with too many thoughts swirling in his head jockeying for position and aiming to have his full attention. He would think about the Old Man, the Playwright, then about a work project, then a friend, and then back to something else. But no sooner did he get under the covers than he fell fast asleep.
The next thing he knew, light was streaming in around the blinds in his room, prodding him awake. He felt incredibly rested, calm. The air was still, and he reveled in the unusual silence. What was it that the Old Man had said about silence? It speaks wisdom. He smiled as he thought about it, then remembered the first mistake.
Am I working on someone else’s dream? What is my own dream? What is my purpose?
He wondered about his job. Why was he so worried about losing something he didn’t even enjoy? And how could he recapture the excitement he’d had only a few years before?
Questions kept popping into his mind, one by one, as if appearing on a screen in his brain. He thought about each one as he stretched, got up, brushed his teeth, and dressed for his morning jog. He was out the door before his mind could stop his body.
The fall air was noticeably cooler today. Thinking a slow run would clear everything out of his mind, he was surprised when he couldn’t stop thinking about the bills, stacked silently in his kitchen. He thought about his boss, about his coworkers, about his life. For some unknown reason, he thought about his father’s midlife crisis, how the sports car appeared one day in their driveway, signaling its onset, and how it disappeared sometime later with little fanfare. They had talked about it once; his father had made light of it, but the same questions his father was asking then were already at work in David now, born years too early.
Returning home, he felt the tiredness mixed with the endorphins from his run. The cold didn’t bother him now and didn’t slow his mind from its relentless questioning of everything.
He wanted to find the Old Man. He wanted to force it all out of him. He imagined himself grabbing the book, thumbing through its pages, reading and learning all of its wisdom.
David showered, dressed, and looked in the full-length mirror hung on the back of his closet door. He then undressed and started over. He wasn’t usually this particular, but he wanted to look more presentable for his appointment today. He needed to ask for a loan. At the thought of the bank, he could feel a burning in his gut, a fiery reminder that he had stumbled financially. When he was finally satisfied with his appearance, he exited the bedroom.
The sun warmed the small living room with a saucy gold tone. He grabbed his folder and his leather bag, the one he had received as a new employee welcome gift, and then left for the bank.
He stepped onto the sidewalk and dodged strangers, all on their way to somewhere, all with the hurried pace of purpose and determination. He saw a young mother balancing a child on her hip while maneuvering a stroller with the other hand. An older gentleman, and that’s exactly what he looked like, complete with a polished cane and hat, passed him. David walked up the block, nearing the café where he’d first met the Old Man. He told himself not to look in the window this time. Of all days, this was not the day to find the Old Man. He didn’t know if he could control himself, so great was his desire to know the truth of it all. When he reached the café, he looked anyway, but the sun’s reflection blocked any view of the inside. Just as well.
David rounded the next corner and saw the bank in front of him. He paused. There was no real reason to be nervous. It was his bank. Sure, he had bills piling up, but he wasn’t in dire straits yet. Maybe he should just go to work and forget it.
He must have been gawking at the door a little too long. An impeccably dressed middle-aged woman swung open the door. In a professional, courteous voice, she invited him inside. All of a sudden, he felt ridiculous, wondering how long he had stared at the building while second-guessing his clothes and fidgeting with his bag.
“It’s warmer in here,” she said. “And if you want to admire the art, feel free to take a closer look.”
David’s brow furrowed in momentary confusion as he entered the bank’s cavernous lobby. She was already moving, looking up and gesturing. It took him a moment to realize that she thought he had been admiring the massive painting from outside the bank’s doors.
“Isn’t it something? I never get tired of looking at it.”
David glanced up and really saw what was in front of him. He was far from an art expert, but he had taken art history in school and, though he was better at talking sports, he was able to fake it well enough to fumble through a conversation.
“It is. I couldn’t help but admire it from outside; the light pulled out colors I hadn’t noticed before.” As he said this, David silently wondered whether the light even hit the painting at all this time of morning.
Fortunately, the woman didn’t argue or respond to his comment. Instead, she turned to him and said, “She’s the best artist in town, and she custom-made this for us. This is what it looked like, on this land, when the town was first founded. Do you bank with us?”
“Yes, I do,” said David, introducing himself and, recovering from what he thought of as a slow start, added, “You know, while I’m here, maybe I could talk about some of my financial needs.”
She smiled brightly. “Needs and seeds, that’s what we do here.”
David registered her remark by raising his left eyebrow in a subtle but obvious show of confusion.
She giggled to herself and then added, “Sorry. That’s what my grandfather used to say. You see some people come here with needs. They need a loan or some help. Others with seeds. They have a deposit or want to talk about investments. Seeds and needs. You saying ‘needs’ just triggered a distant memory. Let’s go to my office.”
David followed her. She was not at all what he pictured when he thought about coming to the bank, though he guessed he didn’t really know what he had expected.
They crossed the bank’s lobby and entered a large office. She motioned for him to sit down and offered him something to drink. He declined but picked up the conversation about her grandfather.
Tossing a comment into the air, he hoped to build rapport with her before asking for a loan. “He sounds like an interesting man, your grandfather…”
“Oh, he was!” she replied quickly, her face lighting up. “He was something! Full of lessons, too. Here, let me show you something he loved to share with our clients.”
She walked over to a wall of shelves. Each shelf was full of knickknacks, pictures, and books. “Where did I… ? Ah, yes, here it is.” She was on the tips of her toes, reaching above her head, and then she pulled down an old container.
“This was my grandfather’s. Well, handed down to him. It’s an old butter churner pot, but he filled it with coins. I wish the coins inside were from the same time frame. An antique dealer told me the old pot is likely from the beginning of the country. I guess I should treat it better, but it’s always been here.”
David shifted in his seat, wondering where this was going and rehearsing his speech about consolidating his credit card debt.
She pulled out several pennies and nickels and spread them on the table between them. “You’ll love this,” and then, with no warning, she tossed two coins into the air at David. “If you catch them they’re yours!”
David instinctively and expertly grabbed the coins from the air.
“Know what’s amazing about them? Look at that penny. It costs far more to make a penny than a penny is worth. Isn’t that crazy?”
“Really?” David said. “Then why do they make them?”
She waved off the question and went right for the lesson. “The label on the penny is supposed to declare the value, but the real value is not the label.”
She looked at David expectantly. But David only stared back.
“OK. The penny is worth more than a penny—the nickel, too. Last I checked, it costs almost twice as much to make the nickel than it is worth. But that label is on there, so we accept it, and that’s what it is.”
She was now on a roll. “It’s like that in life. Others slap a value on you. Not management material! Not an athlete! Not a good public speaker. Not a writer. Not good with people. Not this, not that! And you know what? Your mind is a sponge. It doesn’t know any better, so it accepts the wrong label.”
David listened to her and nodded, beginning to understand.
“Amazing to hear a banker say that a penny is worth more than a penny, isn’t it? Trust me, if you bring us a roll of pennies, we’re not giving you more than face value!” she said, laughing. She suddenly stopped herself. “Oh, my goodness!” she said. “I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m sorry. You’re a client, but your name…”
“Is David,” he said, smiling and feeling more comfortable than he dreamed possible. After telling her his account number, his job, and his background, he turned back to her.
“I suppose you know by now who I am.” She handed him another coin and he felt its warmth. “And you may even know…” She paused, got up from the table, crossed over to the same bookshelf, and removed a well-worn, familiar book, “that meeting me is part of the plan.”
David’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening. He expected to hear about the mistakes, but this was beyond bizarre. “How could this happen? How could you have known I was coming?”
“I wish I knew how that all works,” said the Banker. “Once the process begins, it’s like the entire universe is reordered for your benefit. I think”—she rubbed her right temple in a circular motion before adding—“you can study that one later. Right now,” the Banker said with a wink, “I want you to understand this mistake.”
David could only nod. Then he shook his head for a second to pull himself back into the moment.
“Mistake number two is allowing someone else to define your value.”
David looked at her, still completely in shock that this was happening. She continued, undaunted and unfazed by his disbelief.
“Back to the coins. The label on the coin doesn’t reflect the value of the coin. And yet we believe the label is accurate. In life, we make a big mistake when we believe the labels others slap on us. So much of our potential is wasted because we believe what others say. And then it gets worse, much worse. We accept our own labels. We believe we can’t run that marathon, can’t lose weight, can’t start our own business, can’t get promoted, can’t make a difference, can’t hit our goals, can’t become wealthy, can’t, can’t, can’t! We believe that we are destined for a certain kind of life.”
The Banker slowly turned very serious and looked right at David. “Nice for you to learn this when you’re young. I didn’t learn until I was much older, but whenever we learn the mistakes, we can change everything. I regret I lived much of my life by others’ expectations and labels. When I was growing up, most people believed girls were not good with numbers. Even though math was my favorite and best subject, I believed them. I didn’t take advanced classes in high school because I was told I wouldn’t be able to keep up. I avoided the classes I wanted to take in college because I was convinced I would fail. It took a long time for me to realize they were wrong, and by then it was much harder to pursue the career in finance I wanted. But I managed and am much happier in what I do now. I just wish I had had more courage to be me when I was younger. I didn’t. You need to realize this when you still have time. Regret is the result of any action pulling against our heart’s purpose.”
She let her words sit there for a bit. Just like the Playwright, she wasn’t rushing, wasn’t in a hurry. Instead, she was watching him closely, somehow discerning whether he was understanding. David sat there just taking it all in.
After a few minutes, she continued. “Others are so quick to define us. They set expectations. They don’t realize when we’ve changed. They don’t see our potential. Our parents, our siblings, our friends have us locked in time, seeing us one way and not seeing us for who we are or what we’ve become. Heck, even Jesus performed miracles and then went home, and the people he knew were like, ‘Dude, isn’t this Joseph and Mary’s son? What’s up with this?’”
She started laughing again loudly, genuinely happy in her storytelling.
“Maybe they didn’t say it quite like that, but you get the point. A life well lived is a life true to who you are. Not who others say you are. It’s about you.”
David thought about the warning at work, how its negative label was sticking to his thoughts.
“Promise me not to let this happen to you,” the Banker implored, as if through the sheer force of her willpower she could change David’s innermost thoughts.
“Be true to yourself. Let nothing come between you and your purpose. Don’t accept the limitations others put on you. Know your value.”
A man peered into the Banker’s office and then knocked twice on the side of the door. “Do you have the report? They’re asking for it,” he asked.
“Oh, excuse me, I will be right back.” She picked up some papers from her desk, leaving David deep in thought.
David held the coins that the Banker had given him, studying them in a way that he hadn’t ever done before. He thought about the value of these coins versus the labels and the powerful lesson he learned. It was one he hoped he would never forget. He also thought about needs and seeds. He realized that he wanted to be able to come to the bank with his seeds, not his needs. He laughed to himself; it sounded ridiculous.
She returned a few minutes later and apologized for leaving him.
“Now,” she said. “You had some banking business you wanted to attend to…”
“I do,” David said. “My long-term goal with this bank is to be an investor, but right now, I want to get some advice on my credit cards…”
The two began to talk about ways to reduce his debt and turn his financial situation around. She was generous with her counsel and offered several ideas to help. She wrote down the titles of two books to get at the local library on budgeting. She gave him some paperwork to review for his credit cards and bills.
Escorting him out through the lobby, she smiled as she looked at him. “I’m so excited for you, David. It may seem dark now, but just you wait. Enormous power is possible when you give permission to be true to yourself.”
Late that evening, as he sat on his comfortable sofa at home, he pulled out the paperwork she had given him and rifled through it. The last page was the one he was looking for. He read it several times.