Easy. My wisdom always gave me the equivalent of an eyeroll when I asked about money. Money is easy, don't ask about money. My wisdom had nothing to say about money. It's taken a while to get it. When I actually need it, the money will be there; it's not a problem. Any time spent worrying or scheming about money is time better spent making progress with love. I've wasted an awful lot of time worrying and scheming about money. I'm grateful my wisdom hasn't fired me.
Legitimate. It wasn't always so easy. Before I connected with my wisdom, money was a legitimate concern. It's a legitimate concern for anyone who hasn't connected with wisdom. Money is the key to privilege. Privilege is the real value of money.
Abdication. Despite what some people would have you believe, no one gives away privilege. It's far too precious. I can donate blood and my body will make more. Privilege can't be donated but it can be abdicated. Someone born to privilege can start sleeping on the street. That's an abdication of privilege, one I tried on for size. Two nights were enough to send me running for cover. I could see that even one more night would end me up in the system, courtesy of the police. I would have been forced to flag them down for help. There was no one else to turn to at night. Their options would not have been good. I honestly don't know if I would have been able to make it back out. I don't have a good feeling about it.
Betrayed privilege. I abdicated privilege in a controlled way when I joined TH and his crew. I willingly abdicated the privilege of choosing for myself. That's standard operating procedure for spiritual teachers. That's why you don't want to have one. I gave up control of my life because I believed TH could make better choices. The key element was my willingness: it was my idea to give up control of my life. TH betrayed that sacred trust and damaged me psychologically. His betrayal caused uncontrollable trembling whenever I remembered it for decades. TH betrayed me by delegating the right I had willingly granted him to one of his disciples, a hapless guy who had an assignment: conduct unannounced raids on households in The Community and make everyone sit in a circle while he told them what was wrong with them. I was in bed with my girlfriend when he barged in, waking us at dawn on a Sunday. Neither of us could make out what he said. Then he was back with a big jar of water he dumped on us in bed, shouting I had to join the circle. I'm sorry to say I did. I was that brainwashed. For decades I had episodes of uncontrollable rage at that betrayal. That memory no longer provokes rage. It doesn't bother me anymore because wisdom healed the psychological damage. But it does give me insight about privilege.
Kids' stuff. Money was dreamed up by early farmers. The people who gave us the rest of human culture. Direct barter was awkward and inconvenient, and some genius came up with the notion of symbolic representation of value. Simply assigning value to something with no inherent value (you can't eat gold) to make barter work. Money is and always has always been a mental projection. As such, it's absurdly easy for wisdom to manipulate. Money is child's play.