Most of us have heard the story of King Midas.
Midas was a wealthy king who wanted even more wealth. Apparently, being a king, owning a palace, and having servants was not quite enough. He wanted the kind of financial security that would make Fort Knox look like a child’s piggy bank.
When offered a wish, Midas asked that everything he touched turn to gold.
At first, this seemed like a brilliant idea.
He touched a branch. Gold.
He touched a stone. Gold.
He touched a chair. Gold.
He was probably already calculating his net worth and wondering whether he should open an account in Switzerland.
Then came lunch.
The bread turned to gold. The fruit turned to gold. The wine turned to gold. Gold, it turns out, has impressive resale value but very little nutritional content.
In some versions of the story, Midas then touched his daughter, and she also became gold. What had appeared to be a blessing quickly revealed itself as a curse.
Midas had received exactly what he asked for, only to discover that he had no idea what he truly wanted.
That is a fairly good description of the human condition.
We spend much of our lives asking for things we believe will make us happy. More money. More recognition. Better health. Better relationships. A larger house. A smaller waistline. A computer that does not change settings while we are sleeping.
We imagine that if enough things turn to gold, we will finally be safe.
Some people appear to have the Midas touch. Whatever they do seems to prosper. Their careers advance. Their investments grow. Their books sell. Their hair remains exactly where it was originally installed.
The rest of us may occasionally feel that we have what might be called the Sadim touch.
Sadim, of course, is Midas spelled backward.
Instead of everything turning to gold, everything seems to turn to, shall we say, fertilizer.
The car breaks down the same week the refrigerator dies. The printer jams during an important project. The investment that was guaranteed to rise immediately discovers gravity. The simple home repair requires three contractors, two permits, and an exorcist.
We touch it, and it falls apart.
We make a plan, and life laughs.
We try to help, and somehow become the problem.
We may even begin to think, “This is just what happens to me.”
Some people believe they are blessed with the Midas touch. Others believe they are cursed with the Sadim touch. The Course would gently remind us that both are part of the same illusion.
Gold is not salvation.
Failure is not damnation.
The world’s idea of success and its idea of disaster are both judgments made within a dream.
A Course in Miracles tells us, “Nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists. Herein lies the peace of God.”
That statement does not say that pleasant illusions are real and unpleasant illusions are unreal. It says that nothing unreal exists.
The palace is unreal.
The broken refrigerator is unreal.
The gold is unreal.
The fertilizer is unreal.
The body that appears wealthy, poor, healthy, sick, admired, ignored, fortunate, or cursed is part of the same temporary classroom.
This does not mean we should refuse to repair the refrigerator because refrigerators are illusions. Try explaining that to your spouse while the ice cream melts.
The Course is not asking us to deny our worldly experience. It asks us to stop giving that experience the power to define us.
The real problem with Midas was not that he touched things and they became gold. The problem was that he believed gold could give him what only Love could provide.
The real problem with Sadim is not that things go wrong. The problem is that we interpret every difficulty as proof that we are abandoned, punished, unlucky, or separate from God.
In both cases, we assign meaning to the world and then suffer from the meaning we assigned.
The ego says, “When everything goes right, you are loved.”
It also says, “When everything goes wrong, you are condemned.”
The Holy Spirit says, “Neither condition has changed what you are.”
We are not more holy when the bank account is full.
We are not less holy when the car will not start.
We are not more worthy when others praise us.
We are not less worthy when they misunderstand us.
Our value does not rise and fall with the stock market, book sales, medical reports, social approval, or the number of people who clicked “like.”
The Course teaches that only Love is real because Love comes from God and shares His eternal nature. Everything else changes, and what changes cannot be our true foundation.
Gold tarnishes.
Bodies age.
Reputations rise and fall.
Possessions appear and disappear.
Even our finest accomplishments eventually become dusty photographs, faded certificates, or files stored on a computer no one remembers how to turn on.
Love alone remains.
This changes the question.
Instead of asking, “Do I have the Midas touch or the Sadim touch?” we might ask, “What purpose am I giving to what happens?”
If something succeeds, can I use it to extend love?
If something fails, can I use it to learn forgiveness?
If I receive wealth, can I share it?
If I experience loss, can I remember that what is real in me has not been lost?
If life gives me gold, can I avoid worshipping it?
If life gives me fertilizer, can I use it to grow something?
That may be the better touch.
Not Midas.
Not Sadim.
The Holy Spirit’s touch.
Under His guidance, gold is not used for pride, and failure is not used for guilt. Both become lessons. Both become classrooms. Both become opportunities to choose again.
The Course does not promise that everything we touch will turn to gold. It promises something far more useful. It teaches that everything we experience can be used for healing.
Even our mistakes can be repurposed.
Even our disappointments can become invitations.
Even our greatest worldly victories can teach us that victory without love is empty.
Midas eventually learned that gold was not the gift he believed it to be. He had confused value with price. He had confused possession with peace. He had confused glitter with life.
We often do the same.
We chase what shines and resist what hurts, never noticing that both reactions keep us focused on the dream.
Perhaps the goal is not to turn everything into gold.
Perhaps the goal is not to avoid everything turning into manure.
Perhaps the goal is to allow everything to be transformed into forgiveness.
Then we discover that nothing truly happens to us without the possibility of being used for awakening.
The Midas touch says, “I can make everything valuable.”
The Sadim touch says, “I ruin everything.”
Love says, “Your value was established by God and has never changed.”
That is the only touch that is real.
And fortunately, it is already ours.
If this essay touched something true in you, please feel free to share it freely and widely. Truth was never meant to sit quietly in one room.