the pressure to monetize everything

and the Mexican fisherman story

Anyone else feel a pressure to monetize?

Cause me? I have a lot of interests.

I make watercolor cards. I write poetry. I create elaborate things for family and friends. I knit sweaters. I bake amazing chocolate chip cookies. I cook. Currently, I am deep in a yogurt-from-scratch obsession, in which I ferment yogurt and flavor it in the comfort of my kitchen. (I made lemon yogurt last week… it is actually one of the best things I have ever eaten)

The thing about having and creating a lot of cool-ish things, means the pressure to monetize it is sometimes overwhelming.

“You should sell this!”

“I would buy these!!!”

These are all great compliments I’ve received on some of my creations. It’s a nice thought. These people are saying I did such a great job on something, they would pay money to buy it again. That’s cool. That’s nice. I appreciate that.

That’s also… not the point.

I like creating unique things for my family and friends that may have taken millions of hours. So unfortunately:

1) I wouldn’t have the drive or desire to recreate that thing for a stranger
(sorry, my fuel is compassion and thoughtfulness not dollar$)

and B) I don’t want to recreate it. I’m kinda —over it— as it were.

You see — like many people, I go through phases — seasons of life. This happens in a very physical sense, ie: every winter, I need rest time. In another physical sense, meaning I go through phases of activity — sometimes I’m in a running phase… sometimes I’m in a lifting phase… sometimes I’m in a restorative yoga phase. And phases of creativity… ie: Sometimes I want to knit knit knit knit and other times (like right now) I can’t even look at the sweater I told my sister I’d make for her last year, when it’s not even a 1/4 of the way done.

So selling things actually wouldn’t work for my unique, cute, slightly hot + cold creative dynamic.

YET… simultaneously… should I make money off the stuff I like to create? It’d be kind of nice, honestly. Is there an underlying feeling I SHOULD make money off things I create? Sometimes…. most of the time… sometimes all of the time.

I see so many people out there ~~monetizing~~ in all sorts of ways, and there’s a little voice in my head… um… tori? we could do that…?

But does anyone else suffer from the worry that… if you were to make the thing, and then find a way to actually make money off the thing, IE: create a business that is actually lucrative and you’re making bank, which would likely require larger pieces of equipment and less individual manpower, then it would be commercialized and consumed and you are fearful of creating another thing to buy for a world where we already have everything?? and risk the loss of the individuality/love of that thing through commoditization? Are you afraid of then losing the plot of why you created in the first place?? Is that just a me problem???

Because that comes to mind for me.

And yet, I am a dynamic person of contradiction, so naturally I am completely consumed that it’s actually a really fun idea to just stop everything and become a yogurtrepreneur. (a entrepreneur who specializes in selling yogurt, because I am in the height of my ferment-my-own-yogurt addiction.)

I guess one solution is paying artist’s what they are worth, which likely means shifting our entire society around on what we value at our core, which means doing some heavy systemic upheaval. (Which, yanno, could take a while.) BUT I do believe there are ways we can us our own dollar to create change in the world. Buying locally, trading when we can, making things for our neighbor, paying attention to the labels of where things are actually from.

But I will say: it’s difficult!! It’s difficult — living in this world… navigating a world where a local boutique could have sourced all of their products from China. Am I buying locally? or just paying more for the same cheap product from China? Is supporting this young entrepreneur better than supporting a huge corporation? How do I want to stretch my dollar if I could buy the same product at a larger company and use the remaining money to feed my family or my neighbor? How does it all work? Do I even need more things!!!? (No!!)

I guess another solution is changing the way we few “monetization” entirely. It’s not just about some random marketer on TikTok explaining that “if I just attach one more affiliate link to a post, then I, too can ~monetize~ my account and make millions.'“

It’s more about an energy exchange. In fact, I’m using that terminology from now on. F**K “monetization.”

Because that makes sense, if we ‘give give give,’ we naturally need to ‘get get get’ too. (Plus, someone’s gotta purchase those beautiful farmer’s market dahlias… and I want that someone to be me.)

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This whole concept of ‘to monetize or not to monetize’ reminds me of The Mexican Fisherman by Heinrich Böll.

If you haven’t read it, here’s a loose summary:

An American businessman spends time in a small Mexican village. He sees a fisherman in a small boat with some huge tunas, ready for selling. The American businessman comments on the great catches and asks the fisherman how long it takes him. The fisherman clarifies that it doesn’t take long as long as one might think, and they talk for a while. After understanding the fisherman doesn’t spend that much time fishing, the businessman queries why he doesn’t fish more — so that he can make more money.

The fisherman explains to the businessman that this sustains his family’s needs, and he spends the rest of his time enjoying quality time with his kids, friends and family. He specifies his enjoyment of life’s simple moments — siestas with his wife, good glasses of wine with friends, sleep-in, playing with his kids… this fulfills him.

The American explains to him how he could help ‘improve’ the fisherman’s life — buying a bigger boat, spending more time fishing, buying more boats, hiring a fleet of boats, explaining more and more on how he could grow and then run an expanding, successful fishing enterprise.

The fisherman is apprehensive and is curious how long all this would take. The businessman explains about 15-20 years, and claims he could make millions.

The fisherman asks, “but then what?”

And the American business replies that the fisherman would retire to a small Mexican village where he could have siestas with his wife, good glasses of wine with friends, sleep-in, and play with his kids.

The moral might be about focusing less on the ‘rat race’ and more on life’s small moments. I believe the moral also emphasizes the importance of understanding your own values.

The Mexican fisherman clearly understood his values in life. For him, his values remained family, the little things, quality time with his kids. So long as he made enough money to sustain the life of his family, he was okay working less because his lifestyle allowed quality time with the ones he loved. To him, creating a big business was detouring his way to his version of true success.

The American businessman had different values. And, the thing is, I don’t think the American businessman is completely in the wrong here. To him, career and financial success seem to be core values (and that’s okay.) There should be no shame in valuing the success of your career. The only error is having the ignorance to believe everyone has the same values, and, trying to push those values on another.

With social media, it seems there will always be American businessman in your ear telling you to go public with your fishing company. There will always be a person telling you how to be more successful, how to ‘hack’ your way towards success.

But the thing we have to ask ourselves is: what are my values?

If we go back to my yogurt example. I like making yogurt, but do I truly desire to be a yogurtrepreneur? do my passions lie there? or do I just want to let yogurt, be yogurt?

For me, I need to let yogurt be yogurt. Fresh lemon honey vanilla yogurt is small luxury reserved for a moment when I feel the need to craft it.

On another hand, I want to build a yoga business. I’m going to build a yoga business. I know this, now. I desire to help people feel the strength and magic in their bodies. I know that this can grow. But the way I will do this is neither like the fisherman or the businessman. I do not desire to grow a business to eventually sell it. I desire to build a business to live and grow with it. And as a result, my decisions and life choices will fall some place in between. My decisions will be in search for the longevity of my business, not a quick hack towards financial wealth. I desire a long road towards my version of luxury. This, I have yet to create. But I think it includes the ability of my children walking around the shop — greeting customers, hiring someone to teach my yoga class when I need to run to my son’s soccer game, it includes buying the farmer’s market dahlias, having incredible sales months, and understanding I’ll have low swoops in sales too.

I hope to combine my desire for presence and intention of longevity into my everyday.

My friends: you know what is right for you. So, let fishing, be fishing to make room for siestas. And let yogurt, be yogurt — and when it’s right: start your yoga business.

forever in pursuit,

T