Invasive Thoughts That Hinder
My husband retired two years ago at 59 ½. When he decided to do that, he withdrew some money from his savings to help get us through what we both figured was going to be a tight squeeze until he could start drawing his social security.
I won’t go into all the ways we’ve both planned to be broke for this interim period. But I will say we went about it the WRONG way. For two years, I have paid the utilities, insurance and taxes with his retirement and my weekly paycheck. Suffice it to say, there was not a whole lot left to play with. He made us some spending money in various ways but even that petered out.
Knowing all that I know and have known now for many years, I can’t believe I didn’t see the trap we were setting for ourselves – me in particular.
It’s fascinating to me how the human mind works – especially my own. How is it that a person can “know” something for certain and still not be able to apply it for their own good?
I know that the Law of Attraction rules the universe. I know that as surely as I know my own name – but after twenty years of “knowing” it, I still haven’t been able to change my patterns of thought that keep me stuck with “just enough” in terms of wealth.
I am blessed in so many areas of my life, it feels like disloyalty to what I already have to admit I want more. But I do want more.
In able to create this “more”, however, I’ll have to learn new thought patterns about money. I’ll have to learn to think bigger than I’ve ever done before.
As I become more familiar with how (and when) my thoughts create my now, I’m realizing that a pattern of thought can exist so far under the radar that it’s almost impossible to detect it. Weeding these “beliefs” out before changing them might be pointless and unnecessary for some, but for me, I like to know what they are and when they occur.
Even knowing, though, that I need to think bigger in order to create more, I banish ideas, as soon as they occur, of big ticket items such as a fancy new house with all new furnishings or one of those lovely new white Lexus SUV’s.
When I see another enormous new house going up, I always find myself thinking, “I wonder why anyone thinks they need that much space.” and “What the hell do they do for a living to be able to afford to live there?” and “I sure as hell wouldn’t want to have to run a vacuum cleaner over that big thing and I don’t want a maid coming in either. That would be so uncomfortable for me.”
With the Lexus, I spend a few seconds admiring it, but then the thoughts come about “Its just transportation and no car on earth is worth more than I paid for my house.”
All this criticism and denial boils down to feelings of lack. And that feeling of lack is so invasive, it effects other areas of my life that at first glance don’t seem even remotely connected.
Like my “happening” that I’d planned for my book signing at the library.
The feeling of not having enough money stalked me right up to the doors of the library. Since I’d planned to serve coffee but decided against it because we didn’t have easy access to water, I stopped at the Dollar General to get something to serve in the way of drink. After all, you can’t serve food without something to drink. My original plan walking into the store was to buy several different kinds of soft drinks in cans, but once inside, I realized that if no one came, I’d be stuck with a bunch of stuff I didn’t really like, and would have money tied up in it that I really didn’t need to spend, etc. I ended up buying a package of fifteen bottles of water for three dollars.
Only five people showed up.
My grand, fun “happening” was a fizzle because I’d planned two years ago to “endure this tight squeeze.” The big question is, how do I get back to that feeling of well-being that I had before all this started?
By easing off the criticism. Do a pivot and say something like, “I was glad to see the ones that came. They were a great little bunch who insisted I go ahead with my plan and give my speech. That was good practice. I sold two more books. We had a good time visiting and talking about reading and writing.”
And when I see those huge new homes? “What a beautiful home! Imagine what it would be like to be able to afford to live there comfortably. Imagine what it would be like to have it paid in full and every year I could just whip out my check book and write out the taxes without even blinking an eye. Wouldn’t it be fun to have plenty of room when the kids come at Christmas so they’d feel welcome to stay as long as they like? Wouldn’t it be fun to have extra rooms to offer to friends when they come to Wichita Falls to visit?”
“Wouldn’t it be nice to drive a real luxury car? To have the seats warm in the winter and one of those factory GPS things to use when we travel? Wouldn’t it be fun to go buy one of those and pay cash for it? Wouldn’t it be nice to pull up to the gas pump with a feeling of “no problem.” Just fill it up.
I can bring back that feeling of “all is well” by not spending any more time explaining the tight squeeze, and thinking about it and blogging about it. I ‘ll start reminding myself that the tight squeeze is in the past and imagining that things are better and how they are better and will continue to improve.
That feels much nicer anyway.
