The Voice of Money

The Voice of Money

by Ethan Brisby

Another voice I sometimes hear in my head is the voice of not having tangible money.

I know, in my heart, I am a wealthy man. Wealthy in vision. Wealthy in work. Wealthy in the value I bring to every room, every soul I encounter. I am happy, healthy, and whole.

But when I enter rooms to pitch, propose, or request capital,...there’s a whisper.
A reminder that, by society’s standards, my bank account is empty.
My credit, average at best.
And I sometimes fear someone pulling back the curtain and seeing that my finances don’t match the stature of the man I present myself to be.

This whisper causes me to shrink.
Not just over where I am now, but over where I come from.
I wasn’t born into wealth.
I wasn’t trained in the “language of the money clans.”
So sometimes I question: Will these tables respect my identity?

In response, I overwork.
Trying to do more. Prove more. Be more.
But the truth is...my body of work is elite.
Unrivaled.
Not in arrogance, but in evidence.

Still, denial creeps in.
Because I've applied for credit and been denied.
I've accepted loans or raised funds and at times, not delivered on financial outcomes.

Those moments cling like shadows, despite the tremendous distance I’ve traveled from them.
Despite the exponential growth in my integrity, my skillset, my stewardship.

There’s another layer to this voice:
The one that warns me against loving money too much.
The one that says people with money are suspect.
The one that says I must conceal my desire for abundance to prove I’m spiritually grounded.

So I’ve downplayed it.
Dismissed it.
Avoided “the ask.”

But this reflection is my public and private declaration:

I am worthy of large sums of money.
I trust myself with wealth.
And I will never again let shame or fear distort my divine alignment with abundance.

One of my money success stories? Selling my home in Houston.
It wasn’t perfect.
It came under distress.
But I walked away with dignity, with strategy, with grace.
From 2019–2022, I did well.
Through salary. Consulting. Real estate.
I made good money.
I could’ve done better, but I wasn’t wasteful. I was learning.

Now, I see clearly:
This season has not been punishment. It has been preparation.
I've been pruned so I can bloom.
I've been trained in how to steward little, so I’ll know how to multiply much.

This is the season of alignment.

I am connected to hundreds of millions of dollars.
Not as a fantasy, but as a spiritual contract that is soon to manifest.
And when it does, I won’t move with noise, but with precision.
With stewardship.
With remembrance.

I will recall my leadership at Pizza Hut in high school.
I will recall feeding thousands on crumbs, just like Christ.
I will recall stretching every dollar like bread.

To think of where I came from, and to be called to these heights is nothing short of a miracle.

Like David, anointed as king, only to be sent back into the field.

I did what I was told to do:
I went to Morehouse.
I’ve raised my son with love.
I’ve served the less fortunate, even when it cost me deeply.

Now, I see the roots planted by these sacrifices.
Roots beside water.
Roots that go deep.

I adore this narrow path.
It’s leading me to more life.

And I rejoice; not just in what’s coming, but in what I already am:
A man finally known for the good I bring.
A man silencing every unworthy voice in his mind.

Because the Hermetic Principle of Mentalism tells us:
All is mind.
Creation begins in thought.

Not only does the voice from mouth to ear carry weight—
But the voice in the mind carries creation itself.

So I move forward now,
From spiritual well-being, into mental clarity, into financial sovereignty.

Because wealth doesn’t start outside of me.

Wealth starts within.