Pages

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.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Wanting: Helpful or Not?

Wanting—being in a state of desire—can be unhelpful. Wanting can mean missing your present searching for some future fantasy. Being happy where you are now is a better idea.

But wanting can be useful. Like beacons, wants can direct us to success: hunger inspires nourishment; sexuality assures reproduction; creativity feeds the spirit. Wants teach us our values and priorities. Situations, people and activities that light you up show you where to put your energies, and can direct you to your gifts and purpose.

Instead of talking yourself out of your desires, listen to them. Pursue them. Just be sure to enjoy the present. 

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Avoiding Pain

Are you really living or are you just avoiding pain?

What a question—one that throws me back in my seat as I contemplate it. Other questions crowd around it, suddenly I see my life in a whole new light.

  • Am I really living my life or am I just running from one rabbit-hole to another, trying to avoid being eaten? 
  • If my life were a job, am I excelling or just keeping my head down to avoid being fired?
  • Am I living to purpose or just trying to avert disaster? 
  • Is there a plan, a goal, a charter of purpose and intent, or do I just react to what happens?
  • Do I do or not do things because that's what I want or because of fear? 
  • Do I buy things just because they’re cheap?
  • Do I exist in inertia, waiting for better weather, the kids to grow up, or the weight to be lost? 
  • Do I cut myself off from potential joy or pain, because home alone is easier than participating?
  • Am I waiting to be happy?
Which of these questions resonate with you? Sit with them, let them roll around the back of your brain. Which bring up strong responses, negative or positive? 

Wealth and Abundance

Take the time to recognize your go-to worries. How does stress manifest in your brain? When you're anxious, what do you worry about?

For me, it's always been money. I've spent (ha!) much of my life in a poverty mindset, making decisions based on money; not doing things because I 'couldn't afford' to, or buying something just because it was cheap. Although I'm rich compared to most of the world, I usually felt poor.

As I learned and grew, I realized how important it was to improve my relationship with money and abundance.

First I needed to know where those habits of thought came from. I looked to my family of origin; our stories about money and our ability to acquire it. My family's philosophy about money was that it's scarce and unreliable, but will make me happy. Growing up, I had learned to judge people based on their income and property; wealth = worth. 

While it was a little painful, that look back at my family of origin was a great start. (It also answered several seemingly unrelated family issues!) Knowing what messages I internalized helps me understand what works for me now, and what doesn't.

When you're aware of what you actually believe (as opposed to old habits of thought) you can decide what to keep and what to change.

I then looked at my current relationship with money:
  • How many things have I bought (or dragged home from an alley) because they were cheap (or free)? Did I really like those things—did they add to my sense of luxury—or were they merely evidence of a poverty mindset? 
  • What did my life lack because of poverty thinking? 
  • Where had cheapness ended up costing more than abundance? 
  • Does my sense of abundance match my bank account?

What is true abundance?
I realised that true abundance is love, health, friends, family, freedom... and that my life is incredibly abundant. Money is a tool that can help us get things we want, but it's not the only method.

Does spending money make you feel wealthy or poor?
I began to ask What I would do if money weren’t the issue? That's an easy question to answer: I'd treat myself better by getting what I really wanted, not whatever's the cheapest. I'd do the work I love, not the job I think I'm supposed to want. I'd go places and do things that interest and fulfill me.

Signs of a poverty mindset:
  • Buying things you don't really want because they're a 'bargain' or on sale.
  • Denying yourself things or experiences because you 'can't afford' them, but spending money on coffee, gum, magazines, booze, cigarettes, junk food, or extra clothes.
  • Having to buy something more than once because you got the cheapest and it wore out or broke.
  • Shopping as a recreational activity (online or in-person). 

Rich Decisions
I changed my attitude. These days I buy anything I want, but only if I really want it. Really really want it. I consider purchases and am honest about what makes me happy. And you know what? I actually spend less than before. It may seem counterintuitive, but it's like the difference between eating healthy nourishing food and junk food: the good stuff satisfies while junk just leaves us wanting more. 

Silence in Speech

Pauses in speech, like silence between the notes, add more than we realise to the conversation.

In conversation, my "listening" used to be mostly just waiting for the speaker to shut up so I could talk. I needed to talk—I had problems to work out, worries I wanted reassured, emotions to feel. But now, because I write a lot, deal with my own issues and understand my life better, I have less need to verbalize every passing thought.

Many conversations are really mutual dumping sessions; each person dropping their steaming bag of toxic emotions at the feet of the other.

Since I don’t really have any ongoing frustrations or worries—if it's a problem, I do something about it—I decided to be the one who shuts up and listens. But it’s harder than quitting smoking!

If nicotine is as addictive as heroin, interrupting is as addictive as eating. It’s such a deeply ingrained old habit that I am barely aware I do it.

How to break the interruption habit:

  1. Be mortified as you realize how rude you’ve been.
  2. Begin to catch yourself in the act, which progresses to 
  3. Noticing the urge to interrupt and stopping yourself. 
Eventually the habit dims. Like weeds under cardboard, it may take a while, but will eventually die. Be sure to reward yourself liberally. As you break your interruption habit, your listening habit will strengthen. Your conversations will deepen and become more satisfying, as will your relationships.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Miracles

I’ve been waiting for a miracle to happen—like winning the lottery or, well, winning the lottery. That’s the only miracle I await. When this miracle happens I’ll be happy; living on easy street, doing what I want. Every day will be sunny. And if it’s not, I’ll jet to a place that is.

When we put our happiness on hold, waiting for miracles, we bypass the real miracles of daily life. Each day I experience the miracles of sunshine, flowers, food, warmth, love, happiness, gentleness between strangers, buses that arrive on time, feeling fit and powerful, other people's babies, and my family’s good health.

Last night I was watching snowflakes in the moonlight at midnight... My daughter, half-asleep, stumbles by on her way to the bathroom. We watch the magic in silence, giant flakes filling a ghostly grey sky. I half-expect Santa to appear...

That's a real miracle—a simple moment I'll never forget; an experience that makes my life richer and brings me great happiness.

I feel so blessed that I notice these little miracles each day. If I'd won the lottery, I’d be in that sunny place, and would have missed watching snow at midnight.

Sometimes the miracle is already in front of us.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Appreciating my "Flaws"

I am learning to appreciate my fat. Also my wrinkles, my short-sighted eyes and my big feet. They are all part of me and I thank them.

I don’t have to like them, but I thank them for existing.

  • Some say stomach fat is self-protective; I thank mine for helping me feel safe when I did not. 
  • I thank my big feet for carrying me forward in life, balanced and strong. 
  • I thank my wrinkles for reflecting all the times I’ve smiled and frowned; the many emotions I’ve felt in my life. The frown line reminds me to smile more.