For years I ran what outsiders perceived as a successful holistic business. By many standards it was successful. My workshops, classes and private sessions were always booked. I left my office every day feeling satiated. My heart was full. I was living a life I had dreamed about for so long, one where I got to share my gifts with the world through yoga, reiki, and intuitive coaching. But financially, I was always just getting by.
By society’s standards, just getting by isn’t enough.
Every month I sang a prayer of gratitude when my rent, car payment, phone bill, and credit card bills got paid. And if there was enough leftover for a dinner out and a little extra spending money, then I was living large!
Every month I said, “I made it. I feel taken care of. I can still do what I love. The universe hasn’t kicked my ass out to the curb yet. Hallelujah!”
When I ran my holistic business, I qualified for Medicaid and food stamps. Every 6 months, when the welfare renewal form arrived in the mail, a little whisper said, “Maybe this month I won’t qualify.” My white middle-class upbringing shamed me with every ink mark to the welfare form. I have a college degree. My grandparents would be rolling over in their Republican graves if they knew my single-mom self was on welfare.
Conditioning is a nasty thing. It is cookie-cutter sentiments branded into our psyches by generations of unquestioning souls. My liberal values never aligned with the conservative values of my grandparents and great grandparents, and yet their beliefs continued to haunt me through feelings of shame and embarrassment.
It takes work to undo your conditioning.
I have to peel away societal conditioning every damn day. Sometimes it’s really hard work. But when I make an intentional effort to question and refute the voices that tell me I need to be more, earn more, and do more. Voices that constantly berate me with you’re not enough and you’re lacking the resources that make you a qualified, valuable human being, I tap into my inner abundance — a well that will never go dry. And let me tell you, the laborious inner work it takes to do generations of psychotherapy day after day is well worth it.
There is no quick fix to finding inner wealth.
I went back to school to get my Master’s in Counseling, hoping it would pull me out of what I perceived as the welfare hole. It was a decision that was inspired both by my heart and by the conditioning I was seeking to undo. My grandparents would have been proud of my Master’s degree, but also horrified by the financial debt it left me with. I was hoping to learn more tricks to heal my inner critic and detach from the disapproving voices of my ancestors. I thought that perhaps this second degree was the key to my financial freedom. I hoped that it would remove the shackles societies beliefs placed so aggressively onto my soul.
My degree gave me the financial freedom I sought, but not by much. I chose one career of the heart for another, neither known to break the bank. My income at nonprofit mental health agencies grazed my income just slightly above the poverty level, enough to get us off of food stamps but not yet Medicaid (thanks to the New York state year-long policy). As I approached my first year as a mental health counselor, I feared losing our health coverage; the high deductible plans my agency offered would not be a kindly addition to my very tight single-parent budget. Enter the quandary of many working Americans– constantly fearing not having enough after the bills were paid to take my daughter on our yearly vacation or stash into a savings account for an emergency fund.
Seeking monetary wealth made me poor.
When I stopped working for money, I became supported in a myriad of unexpected ways– ways money couldn’t always buy.
When I worked as a full-time mental health clinician, I came home drained, exhausted, irritated, ornery and many other unpleasant adjectives that made it a struggle to be fully present with my then seven-year-old daughter. Children sense when we are disconnected from our hearts. “Why are you so stressed all the time, mom?” my daughter said to me on more than one occasion, her big-glittery, sprite-like eyes boring a hole into my soul that made my whole being want to hide. My mind said I have to earn money to feed you. Otherwise, we’ll starve. Why else am I working myself into the ground? But her words anchored themselves into that deep, wordless place that only the heart can tread upon.
Sometimes your own heart goads aren’t enough. Sometimes it takes the voice of a child or someone whom you deeply love to make you realize insanity is you continuing to walk the same path. That loving voice that makes you realize your sanity depends on you making a different choice.
One morning, while lying in bed with my third bout with the flu, my daughter’s words whisked through my soul. I had to quit. For me. For her. For us.
I quit not just my job but working solely for money. Focusing on money was killing me, one illness and grumpy mood at a time. It was putting lines on my face, gray hairs on my head, and bitterness in my soul.
When I quit my agency job, I had one paycheck and my tax refund to live on. I had a few yoga classes lined up and had joined a private therapy practice, but had no potential clients yet. I essentially had no solid financial ground to stand on. Either I was crazy or completely and utterly sane. I literally felt like I was free-falling into the unknown. And it scared me shitless and enthralled me at the same time. Quitting was the bold act of a fool. Was I walking into an abyss where not only myself but the child I was caring for would suffer?
To become truly rich, one must find wealth in the most unexpected places.
The day I quit my job, I walked to work. I felt carefree. My senses seemed heightened. The sounds of the spring birds were music to my ears. The bright blue of the sky was a work of art to my eyes. The smells of the spring buds were a perfume to my soul. I remember my clients all told me I looked younger that day. I felt like I was glowing. The wrinkles of worry had left my face. Mind you, I was still scared shitless about my totally heart-based decision to walk away from financial security. Most of my fears stemmed from worrying about what others would think. They were born from shoulds and coulds and must do voices that penetrated my psyche at a very early age. But the fear wasn’t strong enough to hold me hostage.
Every damn moment I surrender up my fear and judgment and concern for what others may think, I open myself up to a deep inner well of gratitude and abundance.
I have started an abundance journal. It’s full of mindful moments that made my whole being feel rich on any given day. The butterfly that fluttered around my head as I picnicked in the park in the sunshine. The old man who smiled a big toothless grin as he held the door for my daughter and I. The supportive comment a reader left on my latest piece. The unexpected hug from my daughter when I was buried deep in worried thought. My neighbor helping me rescue my cat from under the porch on our busy street with a ball of string. The mystery flowers left on my doorstep. A quiet afternoon with a hot cup of tea. And on it goes. There are so many moments to appreciate. (Do you notice that money is not a part of these moments? Money is but one small part of abundance. It bought me the tea and the lunch with which I was able to savor these mini moments. It is a part of the abundant life but not an end in and of itself.)
Leaving my job didn’t put me in a place of greater financial abundance, in fact, I’m still making about the same, if not slightly less than I was making when my paychecks were guaranteed to be consistent week to week. But leaving my job made me aware of the abundance all around me. I have more time and energy to spend with my daughter and devote to the outlets that feed my spirit, like my writing projects. The more I feed my spirit, the more abundant I feel.
“You aren’t as stressed anymore, mom,” my now 8-year-old said to me recently. “You seem relaxed, even happy,” she said, her big blue eyes wide. “I’m proud of you, mom,” she said, bowing her down, deeply studying acorns on the ground. We were in the park hiking through some trees, and she was collecting acorns to make fairies out of. I smiled big when she said those words. “Thank you, Wren. It means a lot to know you’re proud of me.” “You’re welcome,” she said matter of factly and went about collecting her nature goods. Meanwhile, my whole being was melting. I looked up at the sky with a big toothy grin.
The sky said back:
You’re welcome. It’s really that simple. Just appreciate every damn thing.
The mark you leave on this planet will not come from the bills in your bank account, but the love that you made real one mindful moment at a time.
And the irony of it all is, the more abundance I see sprinkled through my days, the more easily money flows into my life. Gigs fall into my lap with effortless ease while I’m immersed in creative projects or traipsing through the forest with my daughter. Opportunities knock at my door when I’m busy appreciating the way the mid-day light shines through my windows, creating prisms on my living room walls. When I’m immersed in appreciation, the universe wants to share that appreciation back.
Perhaps we need a new wealth paradigm; a paradigm that begins within.
“It is better to live in a hut with an abundance of unconditional love than live in wealth and splendor but without any love.”
