What do you think about all the time?
A mezuzah, a millionaire, and choosing what deserves devotion
He was asked about his wealth; to what did he attribute his success? I was at some kind of party with my mom and her friends. I was in my late teens, early twenties. In those kinds of situations I hung out on the edges of conversations, looking for clues about how to be older.
He was an unremarkable man, large, middle-aged, with a fleshy face and a bearing that was convivial especially when the topic was close to home. I remember only one line from that evening — his response to the question about the secret to his success. His delivery was at once prophetic and self-explanatory, obvious:
“I think about money all the time.”
I was only beginning to think about what sort of adult life I wanted to fashion for myself, but I do remember making a mental note: Well, I don’t want to be like that!
At that point, however, I didn’t reflect on the obvious philosophical follow-up question: is there anything you do want to think about?
Recently I installed a mezuzah on our door frame. For those of you who don’t know, a mezuzah is a small piece of parchment inscribed with specific biblical passages from Deuteronomy (the fifth book of the Jewish Torah) that is rolled up in a container and affixed by many Jewish households to their door frames in conformity with Jewish law and as a sign of their faith.1
For some reason, the houses we lived in the past decade all came with mezuzahs pre-installed. Seemed like we should have one.


Being a Goyim — a non-Jew, a Gentile — I got a lot of things wrong. Written on parchment from a kosher animal, written in Hebrew with a quill pen, by a specially trained and devout scribe? I’m 0 for 3 so far. I did, however, say the prayer — in Hebrew — prior to affixing the case at the proper height on the right side as you enter, so there’s that. And yet, I could be accused of cultural appropriation, even religious blasphemy.
So, why this ritual, albeit conducted in a non-kosher manner? I see it as a nod to the Jewishness that is infused in this otherwise Protestant family. The children from my first marriage are Jewish. Our daughter Molly’s anonymous sperm donor is an Ashkenazi Jew. My wife Busy’s surname, Graham, morphed from the Austrian Großbaum, sometime in the early 20th century.
In performing my due diligence about the significance of the mezuzah, I learned something about choosing what to focus on — the value of thinking about something “all the time,” or even some big part of the time.
Below is one of the passages from Deuteronomy that is scribed onto the mezuzah. I don’t share it here with any particular religious interest or fervor — that’s not the point. The passage is a testimonial to the power of training your focus on a bigger picture. Something transcendent. Sort of like getting perspective on “what it’s all about.” Like taking a slow, deep, cosmic breath.
Here is the practice as described in Deuteronomy chapter 6, verses 5 through 9:
5 Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.2
6 These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts.
7 Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.
8 Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads.
9 Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.3
Whatever is most important: Keep it in your heart. Bring it up with your children while resting, walking, last thing at night, first thing in the morning. Tie a ribbon round your finger as a simple memory aid. It’s your sixth chakra between your eyebrows — associated with inner wisdom, clarity of thought. Think of it as you enter your home, and pass between rooms in the course of the day.
So. What can I think about all the time? I would like to think I have a choice. If it’s money, fame or fortune, I sincerely doubt that at any point I will be able to say to myself “that’s enough; I’ve got what I need.”
I am thinking that if I worship these things, I will always want more. Same for worshipping pleasure, youth, power.
“There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships,” said David Foster Wallace. He goes on to say:
The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship — be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles — is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive.
If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It’s the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you.
On one level, we all know this stuff already. It’s been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, epigrams, parables; the skeleton of every great story. The whole trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness.
In other words, to think about it all the time.
Definition from the American Heritage Dictionary cited at wordnik.com
Christian Fun Fact: Jesus quotes this exact line in Matthew chapter 22, line 37 when asked to identify the greatest commandment in the law. He then adds the second which is “equally important”: Love your neighbor as yourself. Seek the highest or best good for others.


I haven't read your whole post, but will later. You're not a goyim. You're a goy. Goyim is plural. Please proceed. I have mezzuzah, I love that you've had them too. Mine looks like a Hebrew National frankfurter. Because I'm an irreverent Jew who loves a good Jewish frank with sauerkraut and mustard. Or used to, before I stopped eating meat. xo