When you borrow money from someone, you must return it before they even ask. If you cannot pay it back in full at once, then whenever a little extra comes to hand, settle it in small amounts. Do not name a fixed date and time; rather, say you will pay something by such-and-such a day. If you place the promised sum in their hands before that day arrives—before they have the chance to remind you—your relationship will remain whole. Avoid your creditor and you create distance of every kind. Better to meet them face to face and ask forgiveness with a bowed head. Let them say what they will... bear it. You made the mistake; you must hear the words. Often it happens that you carry in your mind the intention to return the money within the agreed time, and on that assurance, the other person makes plans for some work, or trusts your word enough to make a financial promise to someone else. Now if you arrive at the last moment unable to repay, they will feel embarrassed and vexed—even pushed into real hardship. So you must meet them well before the deadline and tell them of your trouble. Even if you must endure their harsh words, your bond will not be broken. To lose a person from your life is sheer foolishness. Especially one who trusted you so completely as to lend you money in your hour of need—to lose such a person is to betray your own soul. This is how people lose trusted souls and, in doing so, lose the whole world. When we lend money to someone, it is good to lend only such an amount that, should they not repay or be unable to repay, we will not suffer financially or mentally. If someone asks to borrow a hundred thousand and we must give, then give ten thousand and let go of any expectation of return. In this way, peace of mind is preserved. A person may eventually forget the pain of money unpaid; but one thing they can never forgive from the heart is the one who took them for a fool. People are forced to accept loss when they are helpless, but the bond with the one who wronged them never feels normal again. When we speak with that person, our manner will betray our irritation and contempt—it cannot help but show. They will naturally withdraw from us. So by lending money this way, we lose both the money and the person. Why spend our own coin to buy enmity? Far better to give some money freely, expecting nothing back. Rather than borrowing from someone, it is better to ask for a gift. This keeps the relationship sound. People stumble in another place too—when they invest money in someone else's business on the promise of profit. In such dealings, forget profit; just getting the principal back makes you sweat. Most often, the principal itself is lost. To trust someone with a business you cannot yourself conduct or do not yourself understand, and to invest money in the promise of profit from it—this is to deliberately place doubt and distrust in your own hands and let them make a home in your life. When they do not return even the principal, when they make excuse after excuse, dragging it out month after month, year after year, then you feel profoundly deceived and cast aside.
The heart shrinks to nothing. Friendship, connection, peace of mind, comfort—one by one, everything slips away. All trust and respect for that person evaporates, and in their place settles a profound irritation, a seething anger. Unrest does not arrive unbidden; rather, we ourselves spend our own coin, tend it carefully, and invite it into the rooms of our heart as an honored guest.