More on Deciding

This morning I awoke with a further understanding about deciding. It relates back to one of my ongoing struggles, which has been panic related to finances. But first, a little backstory.

I did not used to panic when I thought about money. But then, growing up, there was always enough of it. My parents were upper-middle class suburbanites who'd survived the Great Depression. Dad was a University professor and taught grad school; Mom was a stay-at-home who pursued her passion for painting but it was strictly a hobby. On one salary from one full-time job with summers and holidays off and plenty of leisure time after work, he provided us with a lovely home in a safe neighborhood.

At one time there were three cars in the driveway—modest, but always bought new—except for his "utility vehicle" for doing our household fix-up projects (used; something to take to the hardware store). We took nice family vacations such as renting a cabin for a week at a state park. He had a 14' sailboat he enjoyed immensely. We never went hungry. They always paid the bills on time and had enough saved for rainy days so that when unexpected things arose, they were easily dealt with and the savings and investments were still largely intact.

And he almost always paid cash or by check (and they were always good). Credit cards were carefully guarded, for absolute emergency use only, and paid off immediately.

Dad had a knack.

Because of this, though, I grew up with the belief that it IS possible to survive quite comfortably on one good salary and that there is always more than enough money.

The past two years have been a shocker for me. My belief system has been thoroughly shaken up, my cage rattled. I've experienced what it's like to NOT have more than enough money, to look at the price of things and wonder how on Earth one salary could ever accommodate it, and I've felt genuine fear on more than one occasion.

However. If this hadn't happened, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to CHANGE.

Now for the revelation. The fear I feel related to money is ALSO a decision.

My thought process subconsciously goes like this:

1. I once believed that money arrived in a continuous, dependable flow (even though it wasn't mine) and departed the same way.
2. I once believed that it was possible to balance in against out, and thus I (decided that I) always felt confident about the flow.
   
3. My parents died, I was liberated from the workforce, and I became temporarily dependent in the meantime upon partial distributions from the estate, from selling some of my unnecessary belongings, and from the occasional freelance job.
4. Due to #3, I've decided that money now comes in chunks over which I have little control (or... I've decided that I have little control over it. *ahem).
5. I've decided that chunks don't last long when spending is a continuous flow action.
6. I must've decided at some time that spending is a continuous flow action.
7. I decided to be terrified about all of this.

Remember, I didn't decide this CONSCIOUSLY.

This is my current belief structure related to money:

• Money comes in to me as random chunks at random times.
• Money goes out from me as a continuous flow.
• This is imbalanced and I choose to experience fear about it.

It occurred to me today that all I need to do is CHANGE the first and last sentence, instill the new belief structure, and all will be well:

• Money comes in to me as chunks AND as a continuous, dependable flow.
• Money goes out from me as a continuous, dependable flow.
• This is balanced in my favor, and I choose to experience confidence and security about it.

Oh, but HOW will I get a continuous inflow of money, you ask? Guess what? That is not up to me! That is the domain of the Universe, which knows all of the infinite possibilities that I, as a mere human, do not. As with everything else, once I decide, the Universe will align with my decision.

The most obvious Continuous Flow Financial source is a job. However, there are plenty of other methods of obtaining CFFs. Royalties, for example. If you write a song that becomes a classic hit and is still being played at weddings or on the radio 30 years later, and you have a good publishing deal, you have a source of CFF for the life of the song. Or how about investment interest? The chunk arrives, it is invested, and the interest compounds regularly. That is self-generating! I'm simply trying to open the mind to alternatives.

But if I wind up taking the obvious route and there is a new job in my future, the only other thing I need to focus on is making sure that I find a job that is in alignment with my Mission Statement and my life goals. No small feat, but... I've decided I can do that.

On The Verge: Enough, or Not?

A major limiting belief recently reared itself. Apparently, somewhere along the line I got it into my head that before I can allow myself to deserve to be successful, I must first lose everything.

It certainly explains what's been going on in my life these past few months.

Now, where does one acquire such a belief? Well, trace it to my youth. While I grew up in upper-middle-class surroundings and never knew what "true wanting" was, I took on this limiting belief from others. I was and still am set on being a successful commercial recording artist (read: rock star). I read everything I could get my hands on about musicians and their road to fame and glory, hoping to pick up tidbits and formulate a plan.

Unfortunately, I seem to have picked up the WRONG tidbits.

It's not just the musicians, it's everywhere. The hard luck story. The rags-to-riches saga. The tale of how tragedy struck and it looked like the world was caving in on them only to have a miracle occur at the 11:59 mark that saved them and turned their world upside down in a good way. The big break following utter tragedy. Case in point:

Kelly Clarkson—grew up poor. Shortly after moving to LA with her best friend, their apartment burnt down. The only thing that survived the fire were the clothes they were wearing at the time. Because of this Kelly was forced to move back home rather than pursue her dreams of being a singer. A couple of months later, she auditioned for the first season ofAmerican Idol and went on to become... well... Kelly Clarkson.

Joe Vitale—became homeless, lived in virtual poverty while dreaming of becoming the best-selling author and manifestation guru that he is today.

JD Fortune (won the INXS search for a lead singer)—formerly homeless, lived in his car with his dog under a bridge, had a drug issue... he had no money and this was his last shot at living when he competed on the TV show "Rock Star: INXS" in 2005 and won.

Rick Dutrow (trainer of 2008 Triple Crown contender Big Brown)—was living with the drug-addicted mother of his toddler daughter when the mother was murdered (in front of the child). He had no money, but he and his daughter moved into a 12x12 tack room at the racing stable where he worked. Now, of course, he's miles from there.

And of course, just about every musician you'll ever meet has a hard-luck-before-wild-success story to share. Except maybe my favorite guitarist, Steve Vai. He grew up in a nice neighborhood in Long Island. Took guitar lessons. Went to Berklee School of Music. Spent time in the school’s library transcribing Frank Zappa’s works by ear, then, on a lark, mailed transcriptions of Zappa’s guitar solos to him. Zappa arranged a meeting, and was so impressed with Steve's abilities that he hired him to transcribe his "seemingly endless array of experimental symphonic rock". That's a ballsy story about guts and audacity rather than luck, but it's more of a rarity to find this type of story than the other.

My brain put two and two together and decided:

Poverty and hard luck is the key to success.

Yeah. You read that right.

My nasty little brain has been attempting, quite effectively, to drag me down to the depths of despair, THINKING IT'S HELPING ME BECOME SUCCESSFUL.

Last night, this deeply buried limiting belief surfaced. I stared at it in disbelief. "But..." I cried, "I don't WANT to lose everything!!! Isn't it enough to be on the verge?"

The shock of this realization had me reeling, because there at the end was the exploitable truth.

I DON'T have to lose everything.

The important point was that I thought I needed a "story". Something to justify it to the masses when I finally get my big break and am commercially successful, something that points to my deservedness: Did she work hard enough? Did she truly suffer? OK, then she is deserving and we accept her success.

Yes, I realize those point to other LBs. But the point is finding my "story". My brain was trying to write my story for me according to what it had determined is the key to success. You must lose everything, you must fail, THEN you deserve to succeed and can do so.

But something else spoke to me in that moment. This voice sounded like the nudges of inspiration that always lead me to wondrous things. The voice said,

"Does anyone really pay that much attention to the background stories? To the details? Are semantics necessary? Do you... really have to go all the way... or is it enough to have been on the verge?"

CLICK.

Yes. It IS enough. As long as there is truth in my story, nobody will dispute it, nor are they likely to feel compelled to researching the details not covered. Background stories are two-second sound bites... and they are all spin-doctored, anyway. In fact, I'd bet half the hard luck stories are just that—stories. Spin-doctored out of a couple of facts to sound as dramatic as possible. Which is fine. Who really cares? If someone is talented, isn't that enough?

It's enough to say, "I had $500 left in my bank account, no job, and I was on the verge of losing my house and having all the utilities shut off when my big break came and..."

Because NOBODY will pay much attention to the phrase "on the verge of" and read into what it really means, especially if the emphasis is on the word "LOSING" when it's spoken. And it's doubtful anyone would look into it and find out that:

• Yes, MY account only had that much in it, but I was due to inherit a very large sum from my parents' estate in a short while so...
• Yes, my mortgage was late a couple times and I was requesting forebearance to save myself but it was at the beginning not the end and I had time to salvage it and...
• Yes, it was my house, but not the one I was living in at the time, it was the old one that was on the market anyway and...
• Yeah, they probably would have shut off my utilities if I didn't pay them.
• And I didn't have a job. Yet. Unless you count playing in a cover band (which surprisingly few people do count as a "real" job despite the fact that the money is the same color).

Semantics.

Yes, I've been ON THE VERGE. But I DO NOT HAVE TO actually GO all the way "there". I'm comfortable with where I've been. I have enough authenticity in my "story" that I feel I am NOW truly deserving of any and all success that is coming my way. (And it was quite silly to put myself through this kind of torture for nothing.)

Besides. Maybe the inheritance money cushion is God's intention for me, and IS my Big Break. Maybe it's there to allow me the space and time to give my full attention to my music career without being distracted by things like day jobs and mortgages. If so, then I've been allowing this ridiculous LB to encourage me to DENY it for me. I've been refusing God's Gift to me.

And that is just wrong on so many levels.

So today, I'm processing this and revamping my belief system accordingly. I've also had some major revelations regarding my music career and God and the devil, but we'll save that for another day.

On Inheritances

Note: this is an import from my previous blog

What does inheritance mean to you?

Is an inheritance something that you earn? A reward for "good behavior" over the course of a lifetime? Something parents are obligated to grant to their children? Something that children "deserve" to get?

We've all heard the story of the Prodigal Son. How his brothers were mad when he returned after years away and was greeted warmly by their father, welcomed back into the fold, and generously bequeathed a third of his father's estate. His brothers were pissed. They thought they'd be getting half each. They felt cheated. But the moral of the story is about forgiveness and acceptance, that no matter how far away you travel or how long you are gone, a father's love is always there when you need it.

But look at it from the brothers' point of view. They spent all their time slaving away for their father, pouring sweat equity into what they thought they would one day split equally. To have this interloper show up at a conveniently opportune time (right before the father kicked it), then be granted a third of the estate when he'd contributed nothing to the deal? Preposterous! Obstruction of justice! Unfair! The Prodigal Son didn't "earn" it.

The father didn't see it that way. The father wanted to bless ALL of his children equally. The brothers already thought of the estate as theirs and they didn't want to give up an inch.

Is an inheritance negotiable? Is a Will merely a politeness? Or is it set in stone that this document must be interpreted as written by the deceased?

During this past year, I've been involved in a squabble over the distribution of my parents' estate. This was not something I consciously wanted, mind you. But somehow I attracted it to myself.

The conflict was generated by my sibling, my Mother's biological daughter, who is considerably older than I am. We have always been on good terms, or so I thought. I also thought I knew her. But perhaps growing up under two separate roofs had a detrimental effect on our relationship. She was already graduated and in college when I arrived, so we were both raised as only children. We never had sibling rivalry, or were able to forge that special "us against the 'rents" bond that hopefully occurs between siblings of the same generation. I thought I knew her... until the crisis of a lifetime happened, and she didn't react at all like my parents and I expected. We expected everyone to rally and come together in a crisis.

The opposite happened. True colors and selfishness reared their ugly heads. While my Dad was ill and my Mother panicked and dependent, it fell on me to provide 99% of their care, handle their finances, and make sure things functioned as they should while we waited for what we thought would be Dad's eventual return to the helm of the family. I was happy to step in temporarily. The rest of the family was greatly relieved that I had it all under control and as was said to me more than once, "I'm so glad you're there to deal with this (not me)". We never anticipated that he'd die a few months later. Or that Mother would be diagnosed with terminal cancer and four months to live mere weeks after his passing.

The point of the squabble is that my sister feels shortchanged in some way, though my Mother was very fair and divided the estate in half: one half to me, one half to her. The estate includes two houses, some antiques, and a chunk of cash. I was granted the right to take part of my share in real estate, to claim one of the houses as a permanent home, and the other is on the market with proceeds from the sale to be split equally after taking into consideration the value of the home I chose. To each receive half makes us each quite well-off for a bit and gives us the boost we'd need to jumpstart whatever dreams we may have. So what's the problem?

Somehow, the situation has turned into a negotiation for redistribution of the shares, courtesy of my sister. Questions about our personal situations and finances have been brought in by my sister in an attempt to support the argument that she "needs" the money more than I do, therefore she should get "more". I have been running interference, conversing with the lawyer to remind him that this is a WILL, not a business contract or sale, and that it should not be interpreted based on who has the better sob story or claims to be worse off. I'm trying to ward off bad vibes by not saying how I really feel about this development, but let's just say, it affects my happiness and my comfort level.

It occurred to me today that this is completely counter to what an inheritance is all about. It's not a reward. It's not an obligation. It's not something we children deserve, or should expect, or demand.

An inheritance is a GIFT.

Our parents did not HAVE to leave us anything. There was no obligation to leave it to us. They could have said sell off both houses, and donate all the money to cancer research or charity. But they didn't—they passed it on to us AS A GIFT. An extremely generous, profoundly moving, final farewell gift that originated in their hearts because they love us and because the only thing they ever wanted was to see us happy and fulfilled. Their hope was that by giving us these things, we would be elevated to a better place, we would have enough money to jump start our dreams, we'd have a place to live if we needed it—they were taking care of us.

To "negotiate" a "better" or "more fair" share of this is to completely disrespect the gift and dishonor our parents. THIS is why it upsets me so much. Instead of squabbling over whether my piece of pie is a molecule larger than hers, we should be celebrating! We should be accepting the gift as Mother wanted it to be given to us, with an attitude of utter gratefulness and grace! We should be thankful that, number one, they left us anything at all, and that two, they had so much to leave to us! There is MORE than enough there to make us both comfortable. There is more than enough there to give both of us a much-needed boost into a better life.

I question why I seem to be the only one who sees it this way. I'm happy to be getting anything at all. She's complaining that it's not enough and that troubles me and I'm finding it a challenge to understand her behavior.

The point is, an inheritance is not a business contract, not an earned reward, nor is it a negotiable instrument. It is a gift to us from our parents. Those of us who have been blessed with a gift such as this would do well to remember that it is a gift freely given, and honor it and receive it graciously and gratefully, no matter how big or small it is, how valuable, or what form it takes.