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We live by stories. We have thoughts and experiences that please us or puzzle us or challenge us or affect us in some way, and for our own benefit and for the benefit of others we set the story forth in some way; written, spoken, pantomime; some way that draws out or is intended to draw out the same thoughts in others. A story is not a picture of something, a snapshot. It is, rather, an account of a series of events. People have been telling stories for a long, long, time.

One kind of story is called a myth, a story that is not true in one way but is true in another. There are many such stories, they are mostly old, and while some are intended entertainment, some others are much more serious. Unfortunately, for many the word has come to mean only false. Someone will tell a story of wealthy relatives far away, and some friend will say, “Oh that’s a myth. He made all that up.” But the classical myth is more than that.

An example is the story of King Midas. There are many different versions, but essentially the story is about a king who loved money so much that when he had a chance to turn everything that he touched into gold he took it. Poor fool. It didn’t take him long to realize he was getting hungry. Then his daughter came running to jump into his arms. Finally he woke up and begged the gods to lift the curse, which, lucky for Midas, they did. 

Obviously the literal golden touch is nonsense. Nothing could be more absurd than the notion that a little girl would turn into a gold stature by a human touch. The story is false. On the other hand, that story is as true as can be. The lust for money can destroy just about anything in human experience. It can certainly destroy human relationships. More than one parent has destroyed their child by putting money first. The Midas myth says that the desire for wealth is dangerous. Most everyone knows that, but how much more forceful is that truth when set forth as a dramatic myth than as simple advice that you should not care so much for money.