Money Is Not The Answer


But man, that is sure where the brain takes me.

Yes it does.

The real joy, the real passions, the reality of my life usually happens outside the parameters of my pocket-book, but I often, too often, think, it could be better.

So, let’s look here.

The thing is there is no here.

I mean, looking at what I was writing about yesterday and wondering, didn’t you just do this?   Weren’t you just looking like yesterday for some job or thing or career to fix it.

Fix you.

There is no fixing me because there is nothing wrong.

I don’t need to figure it out.

I just need to be thankful for where I am at and what this is about.

Living my life to its fullest.

Walking as much outside as I can, even when it gets cold.

Baby, it’s cold outside.

42 degrees Farenheit flashed on the bank screen at 19th and Judah as I chuffed breath out of my nose and clapped my hands together to get a little circulation going in them.

Being in the sun.

Walking out with the boys.

God I do love those monkeys they have been so ridiculously endearing lately.

I go around and around with the working as a nanny thing and I keep coming back to it.

There has to be a reason.

Outside of the obvious fear based driven decision that tells me that I am not good for much else.

I keep wanting some magic wand to be waved, here, child, do this, sign here, study this many hours a day, pay this bill now, borrow that there, and voila.




God damn do I want a house.

I want a house that I can put up a Christmas tree in.

I get weak in the knees nostalgic for a Christmas tree at times.

I have not had one in a few years again.

Moving will do that.

Fear that spending the loot will mean not having a Christmas goose for dinner.

Not that I plan on eating a goose any time soon.

I’ll be house sitting my brain tells me.

Yes, you will be and yes it might not be the perfect time to get a tree, but why not just get one for you anyhow?

I have a box of ornaments that I have hauled around from Madison to San Francisco, still in the peppermint box from the Angelic Brewing Company.

I opened them up this past weekend.

Looked at them and put them away.

I felt depressed looking at them.

But I think I will be more sad if I don’t put them up.

Even just a little Charlie Brown tree on the back porch would fill the niche.

Or a small little guy I can stand in the corner of the room.

I love the way fresh pine smells.

Strands of white lights.

Popcorn and cranberry garland.

I don’t bake cookies anymore at Christmas time, or make fudge or toffee or Brazil nut brittle.

I don’t hang stockings.

I don’t.

I miss it sometimes.

Getting a tree seems like a nice thing to do for myself.

Act like I can afford the expense and I bet I can.

I have some wiggle room.

I slipped another few bucks in the savings account and I will have my return ticket from Paris paid off.

My friend said to just pay it by the date of the return flight and I want to do that, but more than that I want to pay it off sooner.

Then I can start saving for whatever comes next.

There’s always a next.






That is the conundrum.

How to balance the wanting of stuff with the wanting to be of service.

Can I make money being of service?

And how best to do that.

How best to listen to my heart and listen not so much to the brain and to be honest with what I want.

I admit, when I had all that free time last week, I couldn’t bring myself to do any extra writing.  It was like pulling teeth.

Or submitting.

I haven’t done a lot of additional writing recently and that makes me wonder will I actually ever get my shit together in that arena.

I am not trying to beat myself up, I just am trying to not have this conversation any longer.

I would like to retire it.

I would like to say definitively.

Here it is.

This is what I want.

My thinking is quite circular and I really do want someone else to tell me what to do.

Though no one is stepping up to that.



I know that my life is good and graced and blessed and I have all these awesome experiences to look at and see and I know that I already have lived a life of great magnitude, no matter what the outside stuff looks like, I know where I have been and I know I am willing to take the jump and do it again.

As I watch a friend ponder making a leap I think, what further leaping do I need to do?

What is it that calls to me?

Am I hiding out in nanny land because I am too tired to try something else or that it just comes naturally and like a snowball following the fault line, this is where I am, surrender to it.

I don’t have to make any changes right now.

I don’t have to figure it out.

I have the rate raise I need to get by and live the kind of life that though not extravagant, the few extra bucks will allow me to have a fuller daily life, richer for not having the constant anxiety of living payday to payday.


This is what faith is about.

Knowing that I am taken care of no matter what or where or whom.

It doesn’t mean not taking some actions, oh, action has to be taken, don’t get me wrong.

But I don’t have to go leaping about the wild blue yonder trying to make it happen.

I have the space to hold and a place to do so.

Down by the song of the ocean.

Perhaps soon to be scented with evergreen boughs.

Lit with soft white lights.

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