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Thursday, November 25, 2010

Gratitude and Abundance

Janet and I discuss our plans for when we win the lottery. The only big change she plans is insulating her house: “R-90, that’s all I want.” Although I'd like to buy a small house near water, my car, clothes and lifestyle would remain the same. 

I love realizing that I already have everything I want. (Except ginger—I’m out of ginger.) I really do have it all: a warm home, a healthy and loving family, fitness, friends, and a weird sense of humour. I have intellectual challenge, emotional growth and creative outlets. I have laughter, joy and a good appetite.

Research shows that we tend to focus on the future and what we hope to achieve. While having goals and direction can be useful, ignoring our present blessings—what we have right now—creates a continual state of not-enough or not-yet. Given that life is short, it makes sense to start accepting and appreciating our gifts of the present.

Gratitude & Generosity
I’ve been investigating my own generosity. Like most people, I am incredibly generous in my heart, but less so in my actions. I intend to be generous—when there's enough money. The problem with this kind of thinking is that there is never quite enough. There’s always one more thing to buy—that bigger, better, faster newer item I've convinced myself I need.

I want and try to be generous, but struggle with a lack of abundance. I don’t trust there to be enough, so I worry and hoard. In the winter, I worry that the heat will go out and never come back on; in the summer, I worry that we’ll run out of water. At a buffet, I try to get my meal before everyone else... and the cycle of fear and lack continues.   

One way to feel abundance is to give things away. I read an article that said by giving we create a path, like a river bed. Although the water constantly leaves (flows downstream), the river is always full. Water levels may drop, but the water keeps coming. That idea makes sense, so I decided to start trusting the flow, by acting like I have enough. I sent a check to a local charity that helps street kids and at-risk young people. Now I am a philanthropist—something I always wanted. No buildings will be named after me or parades thrown in my honor, but my little donation feels great. 

My continued abundance is a fortune to be shared. It’s not mine, in the way that the air I breathe is not mine; just there, available for whoever needs its. The added benefit is that I no longer worry about money. I take care of my money, and work to attract more, but it’s an equal relationship now; I am no longer its slave.

Here, in the midst of a snowstorm, I don’t have to go anywhere, so can enjoy the snow. I savoured my morning walk through a winter wonderland, had time to shovel my neighbors’ sidewalks, and now am cosy in warm slippers and dry clothing. I have so much. I am blessed.