There are many ways to tell the same story. Here are two versions of mine. 

My Story - Take 1

The Lens of Scarcity

I was born in a hospital in Kathmandu, Nepal. My parents were Canadian, working there at the time, which meant that even before I took my first breath, I had something the other newborns around me did not—Canadian citizenship. In a world where security and mobility are not the norm, where well-being depends on making the right choices, that small difference shaped everything that followed.

Money is a fragile, fickle thing. When interest rates soared in the 1980s, families like mine had to adjust—cutting back, stretching every dollar, making hard choices. Stability was never guaranteed; it had to be built through discipline and persistence.

Later, as I founded and built the company Domain7, the same reality played out. Success depended on effort, but effort wasn’t always enough. Even though the business grew, some years were lean. Resources ran dry, but through persistence and resilience, we built something lasting. After selling the company and experiencing the financial benefit, new responsibilities replaced old uncertainties. If money can disappear, it has to be managed wisely. What I’m learning from my story is that scarcity is a real challenge we must each navigate—it shapes how the world works.

⸻

My Story -Take 2

The Lens of Abundance

I was born in a hospital in Kathmandu, Nepal. My parents were Canadian, and by sheer chance, I inherited a citizenship that gave me access to opportunities others in that same ward would never have. No amount of effort could have changed the circumstances of that birth, yet it shaped everything that followed. Wealth was simply inherited, passed along, before anything could be earned.

Even as the financial struggles of the 1980s impacted my family, we had enough—community, humour, family adventures. Our family’s stability wasn’t just found in bank accounts; it was in relationships, kindness, generosity, and strong social safety nets.

abundance isn’t found in accumulation or control, but in gratitude, generosity, community and trust.

Later, as I was part of a great team building Domain7. Our work and success was shared—employees took risks, customers placed trust in us, and mentors gave guidance. Even in the financially tough times, I never carried the weight of responsibility alone. After selling the company and experiencing financial benefit, a deeper truth remained: everything gained was built within a network of interdependence and support. I see wealth, then, as a gift, and the question is not how to protect it for myself, but how to use it well. My story is teaching me that abundance isn’t found in accumulation or control, but in gratitude, generosity, community and trust.

‍

⸻
‍

These are two very different takes that likely evoke different responses. You might be wondering which story was truer to how I experienced it. And the truth is, probably both. 

I would love to say I have lived in and embodied abundance. That I live in the reality that life and all that comes with it is a gift for all of us to share — and that it shapes who I am and what I do. But the truth is that I often experience a range of fears that drive my behaviour. Will there be enough? How do I compare to that other business founder? If I just make a bit more, then all will be well. As much as I try to live in the reality of abundance, the sense of scarcity is never far away. This is an area of growth and continual learning for me. 

‍Asking big questions

So, which is the deeper truth? Is scarcity the fundamental reality of human existence? Or is abundance? I submit that we each have an answer to this question — and that our answer matters. It shapes everything—our relationship with money, our sense of security, our connection to others, and how we treat the planet. Like my two stories, it’s not fixed, but for many of us, it remains largely unexamined. And, as pretty much every philosopher has told us, our unexamined beliefs about reality will control us without us even knowing. 

I don’t believe this is fundamentally about mindset. Mindset is how we interpret and respond to the world. It would be foolish to propose that we should be “turning our frowns upside down" and force ourselves into a more optimistic outlook—I believe it’s deeper than that. It’s more about aligning our beliefs with reality. When we see the world as it truly is, our actions align with reality rather than resist it. But when our beliefs are out of step with reality, we create resistance—friction that carries psychological, emotional, and financial costs.

So, the really big question is, what is actually true?

The scarcity story

The prevailing story that fuels the raging current of our modern social and economic systems is scarcity. It is the belief that there is never enough; that resources, opportunities, and security are fundamentally limited, and that survival depends on competition, accumulation, and control. 

It sounds true, doesn’t it? Scarcity is not just an abstract idea—feels undeniably real. The earth holds only so much oil, so many minerals, so much fertile land. Biodiversity is collapsing, natural resources are being depleted, and wealth is unevenly distributed, often hoarded by the few at the expense of the many. At every level—global, national, personal—there are limits, and exceeding them carries real consequences. In a world where needs are vast and resources seem finite, the logic of scarcity appears self-evident: there isn’t enough, so we must compete for what we can get, secure what we have, and protect ourselves from the looming threat of not having enough. In this reality, other people are not our co-labourers, they are our competition. 

Scarcity feels inevitable, but what if it’s an illusion of fear we’ve built our systems around rather than a truth we must accept?

But this is only part of the story. The problem isn’t just limited resources—it’s how we perceive, distribute, and relate to them. Scarcity feels inevitable, but what if it’s an illusion of fear we’ve built our systems around rather than a truth we must accept?

The abundance story

Yes, scarcity may feel like the default reality, but I’d say history, nature, and human experience suggest otherwise. The world is full of renewal—forests regenerate, ecosystems thrive through interdependence, and our generosity multiplies when we give it freely. Even in human systems, abundance is possible: food production already exceeds global need, wealth has never been greater, and collaboration often generates more opportunity and wealth, not less. If this is true, the issue isn’t - and has never been - a lack of resources. It’s imbalanced access, distribution, and fear that keeps us clutching instead of sharing. 

Abundance isn’t an excuse for reckless consumption or ignoring the reality of limits. The world has finite resources, and wise respect of those limits matter. But there’s a difference between recognizing limits and being ruled by fear. When we operate from fear, we hoard, exploit, and extract without thought for the future. When we embrace abundance, we see what we have as a gift and act with trust, generosity, and responsibility—recognizing that what we have is enough when we use it wisely and share it well.

Living as if abundance is true

If abundance is the deeper reality, then living as if this is true can change our values, priorities and behaviour. This also means saying no to the predominant narrative of scarcity that pits us against each other in a never ending cycle of consumption and hoarding. 

The challenge, particularly in midlife, is not whether we have fears, but if we let them run our life and write our story.

The challenge, particularly in midlife, is not whether we have fears, but if we let them run our life and write our story. To me, this doesn’t mean pretending money isn’t tight (when it is) or that struggle isn’t real (when you feel it). It means shifting how we relate to what we have—whether a lot or a little. Here’s a few things I’m learning:

1. The illusion of security 

I used to think financial security would erase my worries. It doesn’t. Even after selling my business, new fears replaced the old ones. No amount of money eliminates uncertainty. I’ve noticed that the people who feel most secure aren’t necessarily the ones with the biggest safety nets—they’re the ones who trust that they will be okay, even if the unexpected happens.

No amount of money eliminates uncertainty.

It’s natural to want to protect what we’ve built when we get to the second half of life. I expect I’m not alone in this. It has pushed me to ask: what kind of security am I really after? When my primary goal becomes shielding myself from risk, I end up undermining my experience of trust, connection and a sense of ongoing purpose. 

The truth is, security won’t come from what we hoard—it’s a peaceful confidence that what we have (and what we have access to) will be enough.

2. Defiant generosity 

Scarcity urges – and expects – us to protect what’s ours. But when we exercise generosity, even when we don’t have much, we point to the deeper truth that, together, there is enough. Our fear is undermined because we can see the truth that a single generous act can disrupt a whole community focused on scarcity. It opens up permission to be generous to others and it is naturally contagious. Giving—whether money, time, or kindness—loosens scarcity’s grip on us and the people around us.

Giving—whether money, time, or kindness—loosens scarcity’s grip on us and the people around us.

3. Redefining “enough”

Scarcity tells us that whatever we have now isn’t sufficient—that we always need just a little more. But that chase never ends. For those who are struggling, enough might feel impossible right now. But sometimes, the real shift isn’t about getting more—it’s about seeing what is already here. That doesn’t erase real financial hardship, but it does help loosen scarcity’s grip. When a big win comes, we can celebrate it rather than simply have the bar raised and another round of anxiety slip in. Even in difficult seasons, naming what is enough for today can be an act of resistance against a system that always demands more.

4. Scarcity fuels exploitation. Abundance inspires care.

It seems logical that if we believe resources are scarce, we would protect them. But in practice, scarcity thinking does the opposite—it drives us to take more than we need, hoard what we have, and exploit whatever gives us an advantage. If there’s not enough to go around, the instinct is to grab what we can, often at the expense of others. We see this in economies built on extraction—where corporations strip the land for short-term profit, where workers are underpaid to maximize returns, where competition overrides care. Abundance thinking flips this. If we trust that there is enough—when shared and stewarded well—we no longer need to grasp, consume, or exploit. Instead, we can ask: What does it look like to live in a way that all can flourish? When we live as if abundance is true, we don’t just take less—we care more.

The best ambition isn’t about beating others; it’s about succeeding together and in the process, elevating them. That kind of ambition doesn’t just change individual lives—it changes the game.

In all this, you might think I’m proposing a more passive, less ambitious life. But trust me, that’s not the case. We can still push ourselves and take on big challenges! A few years ago, a business partner challenged me to reimagine ambition—not as something to suppress, but as a virtue to champion. The problem isn’t ambition itself—it’s ambition that thrives at the expense of others. The truth is, we can push ourselves, build, create, and achieve—while also making space for others to thrive. The best ambition isn’t about beating others; it’s about succeeding together and in the process, elevating them. That kind of ambition doesn’t just change individual lives—it changes the game.

For the past several years, I’ve had the privilege of working within the credit union system, particularly with First West Credit Union. Credit unions are built on a different financial story—one that embeds the truth of abundance at the heart of the business. They operate on the belief that financial success is found when we succeed together. It isn’t just about maximizing individual (or corporate) gain. By doing this, they strengthen communities. They invest and reinvest in people and businesses, and ensure that everyone has access to the financial tools they need to thrive. It’s far from perfect, but it’s one model that challenges the scarcity mindset head-on, proving that success doesn’t have to come at the expense of others—it can be shared, multiplied, and reinvested for the good of all.

We can choose to do the same in our own lives. Even in these very uncertain times, we don’t have to play by the rules of the scarcity game—where fear drives our financial decisions, where we grasp tightly to what we have, where we believe success is a competition rather than a shared endeavor. Our response can be one of courage—courage to trust that there is enough, if we choose to live like it’s true: in our home, our friendships, and our communities. We can step into a more hopeful, energizing way of being—one that allows us to live with open hands, to trust in sufficiency, and to experience the deep joy of seeing others flourish alongside us.