Doug Lynam

“Reality is just another name for God.” –Richard Rohr

The Enneagram is a powerful tool that can help you build a healthier relationship with money. But first, we must dispel the classic follies and myths that crop up when we merge any spiritual practice with our finances. It is shockingly easy to use spiritual texts to justify our money monsters if we aren’t careful, so let’s examine these myths up front to prevent confusion or misunderstanding.

Just like we can be anxious or avoidant in our romantic lives, our relationship with money follows the same pattern. When we have an unhealthy approach to romantic relationships, we either fear intimacy and push people away as an avoidance strategy or become clingy and co-dependent due to anxious insecurity. Our relational avoidance or anxiety stems from childhood trauma when we didn’t feel securely attached to our primary caregivers. They were either overly intrusive and violated healthy boundaries, leaving us avoidant of intimacy, or were too detached, leaving us anxious and constantly craving more connection.

The root of many money issues is that when we suffer money trauma or live under severe financial stress, especially in childhood, it can create an anxious or avoidant relationship to money, similar to how we can develop an unhealthy romantic attachment style.

Under stress, our limbic systems kick in, telling our lizard brains to fight, flee, fawn, freeze — or refinance. The constant stress we tend to feel about our finances traps most of us in a permanent state of fight, flight, fawn, or freeze, making us either anxiously attached to money or fearfully avoidant of it.

Unfortunately, few of us get through life without some money trauma, and we should name it as trauma. According to a report in Forbes Magazine, 1 in 4 Americans has PTSD symptoms from financial stress, and among millennials, that number rises to 1 in 3. However, that study was before the pandemic, so those numbers are conservative. 1

Money-anxious people are in continual fight or fawn mode and seek safety, status, or power from wealth, so they become grasping or hyper-vigilant about their finances out of fear and insecurity. Money-avoidant types are in continual flee or freeze mode and become crippled by evasion or inaction.

Ebenezer Scrooge from A Christmas Carol is the classic example of a money-anxious person who desperately grasps and obsessively hoards money, to the detriment of his happiness and those around him. The core problem with money-anxious people like Scrooge is that they are trying to solve an internal, spiritual problem with an external solution. They are trying to soothe the pain from their traumas and fears with cash, which will never work. No amount of money will heal our inner anxieties or self-esteem issues; it can only distract us from them for a little while. It’s not that money can’t solve problems — it can! Wisdom is knowing which problems money can solve and which it can’t.

The money-anxious type lives in constant fear of financial abandonment, punishment, or catastrophe, so they cling desperately to money out of insecurity. These folks have a misplaced hope that wealth will protect them from the slings and arrows of outrageous misfortune, and for the highly anxious, the fear of being broke often carries the same level of fear as death. They equate money with sustenance and are scared it will run out.

Money anxiety helps explain why some millionaires and billionaires can’t find the courage to give money to charity or why some friends will never pick up a check when out to dinner. Behind their cheapness is often fear. Money also provides power and control, which allows the money-anxious to inflate their egos and hide their existential terror.

On the flip side of anxious attachment are people like me, who are money-avoidant. We tend to have trouble engaging with our finances because we consciously or unconsciously view money as shameful, selfish, or scary, and we get stuck in a flight or freeze response. Those of us who are money-avoidant tend to recoil from the world of finance because of the fear, anger, or shame it triggers. As a result, we often self-sabotage any efforts to build wealth, which causes more suffering. That suffering creates more fear, anger, or shame, and a vicious spiral drags us down the financial drain. Running away from or ignoring money out of fear and insecurity can leave us broke, in financial disarray, or dependent on others to care for us.

Money-avoidant folks often want wealth but are so apprehensive when dealing with their finances that they don’t take the time to become financially literate. Finance is a foreign language, and if you don’t understand the basics of how to speak the lingo, money remains an enduring mystery or a source of chronic pain.

Avoiders often underearn based on their potential, struggle to save, frequently pile up debt, and seldom invest. When they do have money to invest, it usually goes into the most bizarre and inappropriate assets that rarely perform well, which provides confirmation bias for their fears about money.

Few of us fall neatly into one category of anxious or avoidant in all aspects of our financial lives. We can often be anxious in one area, avoidant in another, and reasonably healthy in a third, flipping back and forth depending on the day’s context and stressors. For example, we might anxiously earn a lot but then act avoidant by pushing money away through overspending or not investing for our future. The technical term for this maneuver is the “MC Hammer,” after the pop music star who went bankrupt after making over $70 million.

When wedded to a spiritual tradition, our money anxiety or avoidance often creates dualistic thinking about money – that it is either all good or all bad. We then find stories in our sacred texts to justify our pre-existing attitudes instead of letting those stories challenge and transform us. We then end up glorifying or demonizing the world of finance, creating unnecessary suffering for ourselves and the world.

Spirituality and Money Anxiety

The most painful and disturbing problem with money and spirituality is when folks use sacred texts to justify unbridled greed and selfishness. One of the most damaging myths money-anxious people can fall into on the spiritual path is the “prosperity gospel.” The prosperity gospel assumes that if you follow your clan’s rules and faithfully keep your culture’s purity codes, God will reward you with prosperity in this life and preserve your ego for all eternity in rapturous glory.

The prosperity gospel presupposes that God loves the rich more than the poor, and that’s why they are rich– because God blessed them for right living. It directly correlates prosperity with virtue, and I have difficulty imagining a more selfish worldview. There are conservative and liberal versions of this bizarre idea; I’ve seen it in mega-churches and new-age cults.

In my Christian tradition, attaching material abundance to God’s love defies the biblical narrative. Jesus was a poor carpenter, living under the thumb of the Roman Empire and the ultimate loser by worldly standards. He was from an oppressed minority, and was beaten, broken, spat upon, cursed, and nailed to a tree after his friends betrayed and abandoned him when all he tried to do was get us to love each other more. Jesus could be called many things, but prosperous isn’t the first adjective that comes to mind.

In Jewish texts, we can look to the Book of Job, and for Buddhists, the renunciation of the Buddha of his princely wealth as further examples of materialism being uncorrelated with the highest of spiritual awakenings.

Behind the prosperity gospel is the dualistic assumption that money is unambiguously good. Because money is seen as a sign of God’s blessing, pursuing money becomes conflated with pursuing God. This is how, without necessarily even saying it, greed becomes good, and money becomes God. The truth is that unbridled selfishness at the expense of others is never part of any spiritual path.

Unfortunately, too many discussions about money are about gaining wealth to splurge on your ego-reinforcing desires. More travel, a bigger house, fancier clothes, and superficial luxuries are the ticket to happiness. Money becomes the Golden Carrot that will satisfy our every hope, wish, and dream if we can only grasp enough. As someone who grew up in wealth and privilege, I can assure you that nothing could be farther from the truth.

As mentioned in the previous article, my father was a successful CEO who worked tirelessly to make money. He showed off his wealth to project the image of success and social status to soothe his feelings of inferiority. He was anxiously attached to money in a futile attempt to prop up a fragile, insecure ego, and his combination of greed and anxiety created a money monster that drove him into a workaholic, image-conscious lifestyle. Ironically, my father’s distorted and warped perspective around money and material possessions eventually pushed him into relative poverty compared to the fortune he made when his spending exceeded his income.

Sadly, after four marriages and five children, my dad died nearly broke and alone with no real family or friends around him. Things might have been different if he could have healed the childhood wounds that created his money anxiety. In a later chapter, I’ll talk more about my “father wound” and how it shaped my financial life, but I spent much of my adulthood reacting against his example, which wasn’t any better than following his path. Reacting impulsively in opposition to our parents is just as big a trap as blindly imitating them.

Spirituality and Money Avoidance

Unfortunately, money avoiders will find plenty of ammunition in any religion to justify their lack of personal responsibility around money. They often use a flawed theory, which I call “holy poverty,” to create a false sense of virtue to justify their unhealthy relationship with money. Holy poverty assumes that money is evil and that having material comforts is antithetical to a spiritual life. It’s a myth and trap I fell into for many years, and for good reason. I come from a tradition that says, “The love of money is the root of all evil.” (1 Timothy 6:10). Many early Christians thought the world would end soon, so they encouraged celibacy and poverty, which doesn’t work well in modern society.

We can’t glorify greed, but we can’t glorify poverty either, as the monastic tradition would have us do. Both extremes belong to dualistic, black-or-white thinking that our contemplative wisdom traditions are designed to overthrow. I know from experience – I took a vow of poverty and lived the chaos it created, but that’s my earlier book.

For example, a monk I lived with refused to touch money because he believed it polluted the soul. “Br. Pious” went for years without handling cash, credit cards, or debit cards in the mistaken belief that this extreme renunciation would advance him on the spiritual path. Sadly, just the opposite occurred. He became increasingly judgmental, self-righteous, and critical of everyone and everything around him. Br. Pious felt he was better than the other monks who worked extra hard to keep the community fed, clothed, and sheltered because of his money avoidance issues. His money hangups strengthened his sense of separation from the world, allowing him to feel superior to everyone else, which fortified his ego.

If we assume that Br. Pious’ crazy hypothesis was true, that touching money creates impurity, his extreme renunciation required all the other brothers to deal with money even more to preserve his virtue. His hands stayed clean but at the expense of the rest of us, which was hardly loving. Br. Pious’ supposedly spiritual practice was, in truth, just a money monster run wild.

Holy poverty assumes that if we could all find a way to be like Br. Pious and eliminate money from our lives, our self-centered egos will be rewarded with eternal, rapturous glory in the hereafter. It’s just a delayed gratification scheme, where you try to suffer more now to gain greater egoic rewards later. However, if we all played that game, the global economy would collapse and we’d starve to death.

Rejecting money for the wrong reasons doesn’t reduce your ego– it strengthens it. It’s cheap grace, both literally and metaphorically. Br. Pious’ renunciation of money was just a trap that allowed him an unassailable perch from which to look down on the world in anger and judgment. (I’ve often found that the price of purity is chronic irritability.)

There are plenty of money masters who are poor, who live austerely in solidarity with the oppressed, but they have mindfully chosen that path, not had it thrust upon them because of their unresolved money issues. I prefer we call this voluntary simplicity, not poverty, to reduce any egoism associated with it. Poverty is the absence of money, but we are called to something more powerful – solidarity with a suffering world. In my experience, there is nothing beautiful or holy about poverty. True poverty is a curse that needs to be lifted from billions of beautiful souls around the world, and I’m convinced that God, or the Divine, doesn’t want us to be poor because God loves us and doesn’t want us to suffer more than necessary. Besides, if you are looking for suffering, just wait. Life has plenty of suffering for us without looking for more by being unnecessarily poor.

In my experience, many folks called to monastic life are extreme introverts or insecure people who love the church’s protection. While often kind and well-meaning, they hide from life’s responsibilities and tragic messiness inside the “religious welfare state,” as I tried to do. Some people drawn to the religious life or the clergy aren’t necessarily the best and the brightest, but rather those who hang around to be cared for. Many in religious orders who take a vow of poverty will never have to worry about where their next meal comes from or about having a roof over their heads because the institutional church will provide for them.

Ironically, some of my well-meaning friends who want to end world hunger and poverty also decry wealth. They don’t realize wealth is the only antidote to poverty, and wealth is not the same as rapacious consumption or hoarding for personal gain. As I’ll say repeatedly, money isn’t the problem – inequality is.

Another common spiritual pitfall is a money myth I call “financial predestination,” which is the idea that we have a destiny or “karma” to be rich or poor, and our individual efforts have no bearing on the outcome. It is used by rich people to avoid being more responsible with their wealth, and by poor people who don’t want to take responsibility for their financial life.

Please don’t assume that I’m defending the extreme inequality of our current economic system, or ignoring the ecological disaster rapacious consumption is creating across the globe. Instead, I’m pointing out the complexity of the problem rather than reducing it to dualistic thinking.

While self-control helps to reduce the constant cravings and desires the ego generates, self-control should never contradict one of the first lines of the Bible in the creation story of Genesis 1:31: “Then God looked over all he had made, and he saw that it was very good!” The world is inherently good because it was all made in love. When spiritual seekers reject the Original Goodness of the universe, we reject the glorious sacrament of life itself. As Richard Rohr pointed out, “If you aren’t enjoying life, then you aren’t doing it right.”2 Or, as the Zen Master, Henry Shukman, said, “The universe is the playground of love.”

Unfortunately, attaching our identity to poverty can be as vicious a trap as an attachment to wealth. Rather than allowing the extremes of wealth or poverty to inflate our ego, we should strive for a middle way and fully enjoy life without creating problems for our neighbors or the planet through an unsustainable lifestyle.

Even St. Francis, God’s Pauper, had an awaking near the end of his life and apologized to his body, which he called Br. Ass, for the abuse he heaped upon it through extreme renunciation. St. Francis lived most of his life in reaction to the greed he saw destroying his father’s soul and the soul of the Catholic Church, and in his courageous search for a better way forward, perhaps overreacted.

St. Francis desired freedom to love God and embrace Original Goodness in all things. For his time, this “goodness reclamation project” was also a rejection of the Catholic Church’s alignment with greed and power that undermined its credibility. He saw the problem of being anxiously attached to money, but the solution is not radical avoidance. Both extremes belong to dualistic, black-or-white thinking that our contemplative traditions were designed to overcome.

Behind all the permutations of holy poverty is dualistic thinking, that money is evil and wealth is inherently corrupting. It’s an overly simplistic worldview that creates unnecessary suffering, just like the assumption that money is always good. If we don’t look at these assumptions clearly, we will default to the attitudes and beliefs of the culture we are raised in. Simplicity and joy can be had with very little or in the presence of great wealth. Chaos, confusion, and anxiety can be had in either circumstance. Some of us need to realize that no amount of money will heal our anxieties, and others of us are in unnecessary pain because we haven’t engaged with our money mindfully.

A corollary to holy poverty is the myth that social justice work shouldn’t pay well and that if you profit from serving others, you’ve corrupted your good deeds. This creates a perverse incentive discouraging people from devoting their lives to others. If greedy people make piles of money doing bad things, we often accept that as normal. We simultaneously expect good people doing good deeds to be broke. This can manifest in important ways, like devaluing how much we charge for our services or limiting what we will accept as a salary. A better system would be to invert that paradigm by incentivizing selfless service and disincentivizing excess selfishness.

Zero-Sum Thinking

One assumption that hides behind the “money is evil” worldview is the mistaken belief that every economic transaction is win-lose, or what we call in economics zero-sum thinking. Zero-sum thinking is like in sports, where my gain is someone else’s loss. For my team to be up one point, another team must be down one point. Applied to economics, zero-sum thinking supposes that my financial success comes at someone else’s expense – if I gain a dollar, someone else loses a dollar. On the surface, this view looks correct, but it ignores the truth that most economic transactions are win-win. If you spend $20.00 on this book, I’ve gained the $20.00, but you’ve gained the knowledge of the book, which could be far more valuable to you than the money you paid for it. (And if you stole this book then I think you’ll spend all eternity burning in a fiery hell—but I might be biased.)

For all its problems, the beauty of a well-regulated free market is that most transactions are typically voluntary, making both sides of a transaction better off. Neither side would engage in the exchange if there weren’t some mutual benefit. The flaw of the free market is that most transactions have an “externality” or negative side-effect that neither party in the transaction pays for. For example, no one paid for the environmental damage that producing and publishing this book cost the planet. If we can figure out how to factor all the externalities into the price of a transition, we can more easily resolve problems like climate change and make our economy less destructive to the earth and society.

Those who try to use the Bible, or any ancient text, to build a better economic system should never forget that all of our ancient, sacred texts were written before the invention of modern economics. While the spiritual values in our holy books are eternal, the science of economics wasn’t invented until 1776 when Adam Smith wrote The Wealth of Nations. We can’t use Aristotle to make an iPhone because the scientific method wasn’t discovered until the 1500s by Sir Francis Bacon, and we can’t use the Bible or other holy books to construct our investment portfolios because important things like free trade, modern democracy, the rule of law, corporations, the separation of church and state, and universal human rights were not invented yet. Our sacred texts perennially inform our values, but they are not a user’s manual for science or economics.

1 https://www.forbes.com/sites/kateashford/2016/04/22/financial-stress/?sh=30cca5c32753

2 Private conversation 10/27/2023


Money Truths

Both holy poverty and the prosperity gospel assume that good or bad, virtue or vice, is determined by your net worth. If true, civilization would have fallen apart before it could even start. The truth is that money is simply a tool for action. Willfully denying yourself money rejects the primary tool for action in the world and disempowers those who refuse to wield it.

Money Masters understand that money isn’t finite. Money is a battery for storing work energy, and we can store unlimited work and creativity. There will never be a time when the stock market tops out because all the cash is used up. Our money monsters often feed on the scarcity mindset that there is a limited money supply, perpetuating money anxiety. While our planetary resources are limited and face a scarcity issue, money doesn’t apply just to material goods, but also to intellectual property and services. The more we can move our economy away from making physical stuff and towards creative endeavors, experiences, and services, the more sustainable our economy becomes.

A more nuanced view of reality reveals that most money issues stem from trauma. While some of us have more trauma than others, we act out our pain when it remains unprocessed and unhealed. Since money is the tool for most actions, money transmits our trauma when used without proper discernment.

My forthcoming book, Become A Money Master: The Enneagram In Action, will teach you how to heal your money trauma and respect money as a tool for action to serve yourself and the world. However, getting you there will require a bit of mystical thinking. Mystical thinking is often described as non-dual because it can never separate anything into clean, neat categories. The beauty of mystics is that they have a high tolerance for ambiguity and avoid the dualistic traps that bedevil most of us.

What Jesus, the saints, and every enlightened yogi, rabbi, sannyasin, avatar, and Buddhist master tell us is that from the divine perspective, love flows in infinite abundance in all and through all. Divine love doesn’t care about the size of your bank account, but rather how you use it, so we should stop judging each other by how much we have and focus on how wisely we use what we have.

Put simply: Virtue is not correlated to your tax bracket.

Attaching our identity and sense of value to our poverty or wealth only fortifies the ego. The egoic self will attach to anything that provides the illusion of separation and superiority. Those who blindly affirm the intrinsic virtue of wealth or summarily reject all money as evil, are usually those with the most vicious money monsters, and they use their austerity or wealth to prop up their feelings of superiority.

Mysticism and Money

It may be radical to talk about your soul in a book about money, but you’ll never become a true money master until you accept your responsibility as a fractal piece of the Divine or an incarnated soul. For a deep dive into this topic, I highly recommend Richard Rohr’s magnum opus, The Universal Christ, which provides a robust, orthodox explanation of why you are always a part of the universal manifestation of the Divine. When we fully embrace our true essence as a fractal piece of the Body of Christ (or Buddha Nature, or The Mother, etc.), we embrace our universal responsibility to love and care for all of creation.

We Christians often forget that Christ is not Jesus’ last name. Christ is the spirit of unity with all things, which we can never be separate from. Jesus represents the historical figure who lived in first-century Palestine, while in Christianity, Christ represents the eternal and universal presence of the Divine in all. According to Fr. Rohr, Christ embodies God’s love and wisdom, and this presence can be found in every person and every part of reality – when we know how to look for it.

The radical transformation of consciousness that we need to tame our money monsters can never come from fortifying our separate self, or false self, but only by shattering it and merging with the Universal Christ, Buddha, Allah, or Atman. Pick any holy name of the divine that works best for you. Regardless of the sounds and words we use to name the ineffable and unnameable, which change across cultures and religions, the spirit of unity remains constant. When we start operating from our True Self, or essence, which is bound to all and responsible for all, we use our time, talents, and treasure in loving service for ourselves, our families, our community, and the world.

Those with a healthy relationship with their financial life, the money masters, are easygoing but diligent about money. They have no problem with working hard to make a good living, they save appropriately as circumstances allow, and invest substantially for their future and the future of those they love. When they build wealth and achieve financial freedom, they are generous with their resources and don’t allow their good fortune to inflate their egoic false self or sense of separation.

The goal is to stop trying to get God to like us and reward us, and to a place where we see the Divine in all, incarnating as all. As Fr. Rohr is fond of saying, “The first incarnation was creation itself.” However, only after our egoic false self is fully developed, as explained by the Enneagram, and then broken open, can we escape the dualistic mind that is always weighing, judging, counting, and comparing ourselves to others.

The radical, miraculous truth is that Divine loves things by becoming them. God isn’t outside our universe looking in. God is inside you, looking out. When you experience this mystical insight, God is no longer a being to believe in, but a lived mystical truth that can never be fully explained, sermonized, or theologized. Our True Self always resides in this ultimate reality, and this is where the Enneagram can help us get to – divine union with all that is never separate from anyone or anything. It’s an ambitious goal, but better than the alternatives. As Jesus stated in Matthew 11:29-30, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (NIV)

When we can see God flowing through everything, including ourselves, God stops being a deity we pray to and becomes a perspective from which we pray. Then all our actions can become a living prayer filled with love and compassion for a co-suffering world. Or as Barry Taylor, the road manager for AC/DC said, “God is the name of the blanket we throw over mystery to give it shape.”

With money in our pockets, wealth used wisely becomes one of the greatest tools for service, compassion, and connection available. Money connects us to the things we need for material existence and many of the things and experiences we hope for and long for. On a basic level, money connects us to food, shelter, healthcare, clothing, and the other necessities needed to survive. Once our essential needs are met, money connects us to the people we love by allowing us to serve, protect, and care for them. A little bit of extra wealth, wisely used, allows us to be of even greater service to the world while also connecting us to the luxuries and experiences that provide ease, comfort, and repose. After all, life is good, and we should be able to enjoy it, at least occasionally. Life is hard enough without adding to it the misery of deprivation.

However, let me revisit just one key Bible passage I discussed in my first book, From Monk To Money Manager, 1 Timothy 6:10:

“But those who want to be rich fall into temptation and are trapped by many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains.”

I’ve heard preachers say that it is the “love” of money that is the problem, not money itself. For me, this is like saying sex isn’t a problem, enjoying sex is the problem: Have all the sex you want, just don’t like it very much. That’s a little silly too. I love having sacks of money! But that doesn’t mean there aren’t serious spiritual dangers around money and sex. Rampant selfishness at the expense of others is unspiritual, unkind, and in opposition to the core teaching of the world’s religions. We need to find a way forward that allows us to be wealthy and care for the poor and our planet without feeling guilty about money and enjoying it wholeheartedly for the good it produces in the world and our personal lives.

Be mindful of your money by giving your money some love—the right kind of love. Not avarice or greed, but spiritual love. Love that is attentive, patient, and kind. In Ancient Greek, the original language of the New Testament, there are four different words for love. Each with a unique flavor and nuance. But in English, we only have one word for love. All four Greek terms get jumbled together, creating much confusion about the “love” of money. This is a topic worthy of an entire book, but it seems reasonable to distinguish between a selfish, narcissistic love of money for self-aggrandizement that reinforces our false self, versus a higher love of money that is mindful, filled with gratitude for our blessings and increases our capacity for service.

The phrase, “love of money” in 1 Timothy 6:10 comes from the word philargyria, which literally means love of silver. Phil is one of the Greek roots for love, and argyria is silver, the metal that ancient Greek coins were made from. (Argyria rhymes with Algeria.) Philargyria has a profoundly negative connotation and refers to avarice.

What I suggest is that we need agape-argyria: divine love of money. Agape is the highest form of love and also means charity. It is a selfless love fervently devoted to the service of others. Agape allows us to love that which is intuitively unlovable: the sinner, the criminal, the fool, the leper—and perhaps even money.

Why shouldn’t money and God work together? It is true that no one can serve two masters. “Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.” Matthew 6:24. But here’s a cool trick: You can make money serve God. Just not the other way around.

The journey from philargyria to agape-argyria is a life’s work, and taming our money monsters helps us on the path. To transform ourselves and our communities from avaricious greed to a healthy love and respect for the beauty and power of wealth is not easy. And the work is never fully done, because eliminating our self-centered egoism and increasing our capacity for love and service is the spiritual adventure.

Agape-argyria is a daily practice that aligns our actions with our highest ideals. And because money is a tool for connection that allows us to move and act in the world, it must be infused with our highest spiritual values to help bring love to fruition. By honoring the power of wealth, we give ourselves opportunities to enhance our spiritual practice.

Doug Lynam is a former Marine, Benedictine monk, and investment advisor. He is the author of From Monk to Money Manager: A Former Monk’s Financial Guide to Becoming A Little Bit Wealthy — And Why That’s Okay. He is now a full-time writer and an Enneagram and money coach. Contact him at douglynam@gmail.com.

This article first appeared in Enneagram Monthly May 2024 . © Doug Lynam. Do not reprint or share without permission.