Scarcity v. Abundance

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I’ve been pondering a concept lately and that is the idea of financial abundance deriving from frugality or a scarcity mindset, and that of financial abundance deriving from an abundance mindset.

For years, I doggedly pursued frugality as paramount.  I was on message boards where frugality was held up as THE way to early retirement.  Basically, spend ONLY in accordance with your values so that you retain as much as you possibly can in order to liberate yourself from outside employment.  And then often, it became in my mind: spend as little as possible for the sake of doing so.  Case in point:  I was in therapy after my son was born for post-partum depression and part of what was stressing me out that particular day was that we were always arguing about supper – what to have, who would make it, etc.  We were both working full-time in high-demand, moderately high-income jobs with an infant at home.  It was tough in many ways, but we had plenty of income.  When the therapist suggested that we buy an assortment of convenience meals, salad fixings, etc., I remember thinking and maybe even saying, “but that will cost so much money!”  And it was kind of a wake-up call.  I was punishing and stressing myself out for no good reason.  We had tons of resources right in that moment, and I was thinking thoughts that made me feel like a pauper.

With that, I started to spend. I did almost a 180 on spending.  I started buying and even had my word for the next year be “permission,” mainly to get over the feeling that I was not supposed to spend any money at all, OR any money without consulting with my husband, even though I actually earned more money than him.  (Mind you – none of this imposed by my husband.  Allllll me.).

Since I’ve joined The Life Coach School’s Self Coaching Scholars program, I’ve been exploring money concepts and thoughts again.  Brooke, like many others, teaches about creating feelings based on thoughts of abundance.  I’m not yet super clear on how to apply this to my own life.  I’m not over the idea of early retirement espoused in the voluntary simplicity literature and movement.  I find it very appealing.  But for me, it’s always been about escaping the work world, about NOT having the freedom and fancy-free life I imagine I’d have when early-retired.

So I guess one way I’m trying to live the idea of abundance versus scarcity is in thinking about the business I plan to start (website is still a skeleton, ‘kay?) and WHY.  Initially, it was for reasons like freedom, not to have a boss, etc.  Just like for ER, those reasons are to escape something.  It won’t work.  I will find some other way to feel restricted or constrained in my business.  So I’m trying to envision what I HAVE that I can bring to the business, not what I’m trying to GET.  I will serve.  I will bring my experiences to share with others.  I have everything I need right now, so I don’t need the business to be anything more than that right now.  And from there, I will not be focusing on what I DON’T have, I’ll be focusing on what I DO have.  And even if my trajectory takes the same amount of time, I will feel so much better along the way.

I do have one old and funny story about this, though.  I dated soooo many guys in the ten years leading up to getting married.  Obviously none of them worked out, for so many reasons.  So one day I’d had it.  I threw my hands up – I was DONE dating.  And didn’t go on the dating sites, and quit looking at every man as a potential partner I had to impress, and did my own thing (including, LOL, paying down a ton of debt and locking in some of those frugal behaviors).  Anyway, it was then that my now-husband asked me out.  And I’d known him for 2 years!  But I was never able to see what was right in front of me for focusing on what I DIDN’T have – a good boyfriend.  It was when I released the scarcity that I was able to get the best boyfriend.  ❤ ❤ ❤

I am still finding my way with this concept.  What are your thoughts?

On Comparison

Today is Thanksgiving, and I’m sitting here in my warm house, in front of glowing candles in the fireplace and – in my eyes – a Better Homes and Gardens-worthy mantel, reflecting on the day.  We went to my brother-in-law’s beautiful new lakeside home to celebrate our first Thanksgiving since losing my mother-in-law just last week.  She was a timeless hostess.  She’d stepped back from doing the big meals the last few years, but it didn’t matter today.  She and her ever gracious hostess presence was warmly remembered around the table and more than a few tears were shed.

Now, my little family does NOT live in a brand new lakeside home.  We live in a 1926 Tudor in a beautiful neighborhood in St. Paul.  When we moved in, it felt palatial.  We’d lived in a matchbox of a 1917 bungalow with an awful layout and really lived in about 600 square feet of it and deposited our junk in the other 300 barely usable square feet upstairs.  So to get a 1400 square foot house felt amazing.  But when I go to my brother-in-law’s, the thoughts of comparison start marching through my mind . . . I wish I lived on a lake.  No cracks in the plaster here.  I bet he pays less in property taxes on a house twice as big.  They have so much space!  The fact that he has to drive an hour to work is kind of lost in all the comparison.  Or that they have to clean that whole place.  Or pay for it . . . for how long?

Emotionally, life’s been a little hard lately, and so also lately, I’m kind of obsessing about home improvements – stuff that should be low on the current priority list.  Painting the living room/dining room/sun room/stairway.  Getting a big girl bed for my daughter who I’d really rather keep in the crib anyway.  Scraping the popcorn coating and skimcoating the ceilings because it’s clear WHY they put that popcorn up in the first place – to cover the humongous fissures in the plaster.  (See how I wrote “should be low on the priority list?”  Bear with me.  That’s important later.)

I suppose it’s easier to window shop online and browse Pinterest for paint colors than to be sad that my mother-in-law died, or to face that I’m really not committing to losing that weight, or to admit that no matter how bad I would like to be a self-employed person I’ve taken no more steps toward doing so than making some lists of ideas in my journal, or that it’s generally grey and dark right now and I’m kinda sluggin’ it up around here.

So I’m starting to indulge in this dangerous game of comparison.  It’s a thief of joy, or should I say of feeling my emotions fully?  Because I’m not really trying to escape joy here, am I?  So then I’m letting these thoughts of envy lead me into activities and thoughts that distract me from feelings I need to feel.  I’m letting it lead me into imagining it would be better to trade up the whole house rather than spend a few hundred bucks on a paint color I like better and that we could actually wipe clean or maybe a few thousand in getting properly sized furniture for the quirky layout of the living room.  AND WHAT IF I MISS THE BLACK FRIDAY DEALS ON THE BIG GIRL BEDS?!?!

I’ll allow myself to make my home the way I want, but I’m gonna force myself to make a decision.  No more bed browsing.  Now I know that the bed I want exists, and when it’s time to get it, we will.  No need to worry about Black Friday.  There will be another sale.  No more fantasizing about paint.  I’ll buy it and hire our handyman to paint, or move on.  I’m getting better at this decision making stuff.  It’s all a journey.  I’m learning how to recognize when I’m envious, when I’m distracting myself from needing to feel, and when – gosh darn it – I’m just actually really tired of the handprinted, penciled up paint color and want something fresh and new on the walls.  And it might cost money.  And that is allowed.