In court at twelve after I had refused to go home the mother argued; “But we gave her so much the ungrateful wretch” What matters the hate and a bit of…well…lot’s of pain?
As a teen I saw people + money = corruption, hypocrisy, abuse, addiction and the constant hunt to get money to get stuff to get money to get stuff to get money to get stuff to get money to get stuff to get ….and I thought it mad. And by late teens I saw the third world and the rich and my heart screamed.
You can see I developed an attitude about money. A righteous one at that :).
On the journey to ask; what is this life, I accidentally ended up educated, and in a job were the money wasn’t bad.
So I lived that way…co-owned two houses at two different times but gave it all away when the smell of conflict over money rose in the air. Determined money was not worth it.
I did my job for I loved it, so, for years enjoyed what a fairly good salary in a prosperous country can give. The freedom to enjoy ones self with ones group of friends. Good food, good wine, movies, plays, jazz n blues, barbies, gifts for all. I also gave to those with less. Time passes.
Suddenly hit by single parenting; trying to balance it…realising I never could; I quit earning money and became full-time mum. We were poor but oh so very happy. And life moved on.
Returning to work because it was a vocation not a job, the kid taller, schooling, putting out his hand for the notes to fall…(remember when we only got coins…oh and for anyone not an Aussie…our lowest note is five bucks), and the hard reality that living on the borderline financially is revoltingly stressful…more years pass.
But only a couple of years ago crap struck. And when the crap hit its pinnacle I realised this ‘vocation’ of mine could no longer be. It is never the clients in mental health that creates burn-out. It is the system, at least if you happen to be a person who gives a f—k. (And though I’ve tried really hard at times not to give a f—k, I really do give a f—k and that’s just the f—–g way it is :)!)
So over the last two years I’ve had to take some time to heal. And at the same time, I have found ‘parent availability’ is even more important when your kid becomes a teen.
Just recently though I have realised that when it comes to money I have made a rather big mistake.
By rejecting its importance I have ignored its real value. I find myself guilty of the very thing I ask others not to do. I’ve thrown the baby out with the bath water. It struck home really painfully this week when I realised I can’t get myself and my son to a friends funeral. Not without my current debts exploding into the cosmos.
And the important point to all off this is that…as I face the reality of now…I see a trail behind me littered with ‘belief’ receipts. Decision upon decision that are a direct result of allowing certain facts to turn into an unexamined subconscious belief that then dictated my behaviour.
That money didn’t matter.
In ensuring I didn’t commit the same mistakes as those surrounding me I swung too far on the pendulum and now its bitten me on the bum.
So I must develop a new relationship to money. Which is an interesting process in itself bringing up all these strange ideas I didn’t even know were in my mind. ‘Filthy luca, ‘capitalist pig’. Good lord where did all this come from?
Hmmm. I’ll let you know how it goes.