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I want you to imagine something with me for a second. There's a planet out there, somewhere, that is identical to Earth in every single way. Same people. Same buildings and cars and countries and cities and oceans and mountains. Same arguments, same dreams, same Monday mornings. Everything is the same. Except for one thing. There is no money on this planet. There is no such thing as money. What there is, though, is strawberries. And strawberries are how everything works. When you go to work on Friday morning, your boss hands you a crate of strawberries. You did a good job this quarter, so you get a little bonus. 27 extra strawberries. You stop and fill up on the way home and you hand the guy behind the counter a few strawberries. You get home and put the rest in the fridge, and you're feeling pretty good about yourself because this was a solid week for strawberries. This is Strawberry Planet. And everything about it makes exactly as much sense as the world you and I live in right now. There's a guy on Strawberry Planet who wakes up every morning and checks his strawberry count on an app. He's refreshing a screen to see whether his pile of fruit got bigger or smaller overnight, and whatever that number says determines whether today is a good day or a bad day. His wife can tell the second he looks at his phone. If the strawberries went up, he's present at breakfast. If they went down, he's distant and irritable and short with the kids and she's learned not to bring up anything important until after lunch. His life is being dictated by fruit. On a screen. There's a woman on Strawberry Planet who has 40 billion strawberries. She couldn't eat them in ten thousand lifetimes. They're sitting in warehouses across the country, and some of them are starting to rot because there are too many to even keep track of. She wakes up every morning and the first thing she thinks about is how to get more. There are two brothers on Strawberry Planet who haven't spoken in eleven years. They loved each other, grew up in the same house, played in the same yard, had the same mother. And then she died and left behind a big pile of strawberries, and the two brothers couldn't agree on who deserved more of them. So they hired people, and paid those people a lot of strawberries, to fight each other in a courtroom over their dead mom's strawberries. The fight lasted three years and by the end of it both brothers had fewer strawberries than they started with and a mother who was still gone and a relationship that might never come back. Over fruit. There's a woman who saved strawberries her whole life. She said no to the trip. She said not yet to the dinner. She said maybe next year to the thing she actually wanted to do. She's 74 now. She has a warehouse full of strawberries and a body that can't do half the things she was saving them for. She thought her life was out there in the future, waiting for her to find it. Now she knows it was here the whole time. If you asked anyone on Strawberry Planet whether strawberries were the most important thing in life, every single one of them would say no. But if you watched how they spent their mornings and their energy and their best years, the answer was almost always yes. There was an old man named Sam who figured out what strawberries were actually for. He used them instead of serving them. Sam died last Tuesday. The room was full, and not one person who stood up to speak mentioned strawberries. His son remembered something his dad told him once. Son, we invented strawberries to measure value. Don't ever let them measure you. If you enjoyed this reading, click the link to read the first two chapters of my book.

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