The Debt Way There’s a way of life that’s so deeply woven into the fabric of American culture that most people can’t even see it anymore. I call it the debt way. A quiet, tragic trade of freedom for convenience. Debt is sold as a tool, a bridge, a step forward. But in reality, it’s a psychological cage with invisible bars. The moment you take on debt, you don’t just borrow money, you borrow certainty. And with that certainty, you lose something sacred: the open-endedness of your future. Because what is the future if not possibility? The vast, undefined realm where anything could happen? When you take on debt, you predefine that page. You commit to a storyline before you even know who you’re going to be in the next chapter. When the future is defined, hope erodes. Your brain feels it before you even articulate it. The spark that once came from imagining different paths begins to dim. Your body enters survival mode. Excitement turns to tension. Openness turns to burden. What was once a life of unknowns becomes a payment schedule. A countdown. And this is why anxiety blooms in a life lived through debt. Anxiety thrives in two places: the past and the future. It feeds off regret, and it feeds off fear. Debt anchors you to both. The principal becomes the weight of your past decision, and the interest becomes the tax on your future self. It’s a double bind....your presence shackled to two poles that have nothing to do with today. You can try to live “in the now.” But as long as those anchors are in place, your nervous system knows the truth: you are not free. And maybe that’s the most damaging part. Not the money itself. Not the interest rates. But the quiet, internal shift from I could be anyone to I already signed the dotted line. I’ve seen it over and over. Talented, alive people slowly lose their aliveness, not from failure, but from financial obligation. They don’t feel like they chose their life. They feel like they’re repaying it. Risk becomes irresponsible. Freedom becomes terrifying. I always tell people: avoid personal debt at all costs. Not because it’s financially unwise, though that’s often true. But because nothing robs the present moment more silently, more thoroughly, than a future you already sold.