That's all it really is. A tool. Like many other tools, you can choose the budget, mid-range, or luxury version. Sometimes the level of tool you purchased can compromise the integrity or quality of the work you perform with it. I have a diagonal scar on my left thumb given to me by a $20 matte cutter that taught me that lesson.
I have been so fortunate in my life. I have been so lucky. I think of the luxury version of money being a fancy hotel with all white and gold fixtures. I really hate white and gold fixtures. What I love is a patina with rich deep colors and a bit of texture and dirt. That budget to mid-range lifestyle suits "me to a T" as long as I add in some perks like traveling wherever I like. (Why, in my head, does it feel like there are rules that mid-range life-stylers are only supposed to take driving vacations? Or if they do fly, they are only allowed the continental US?) Nearly nothing about the luxury lifestyle actually appealed to me, so I never had to figure out how to attract that.
See I'm lucky. I "got it" long ago. Well, at least about money. Money isn't love. It isn't evil. It cannot buy you happiness. See the trick there is, it can buy you things that you may see as the elements which will make you happy. However, the end result is solely dependent on whether or not you clearly discerned what would bring you happiness. We have endless examples where someone tried just that and failed. So we know it isn't a sure deal. It isn't certain enough to write a mathematic equation around.
X (Money) + Y (Things Money Can Buy) = Z (Happiness)
Z would have to have some sort of modifier. Something that quantified the element of self awareness.
That would be a good descriptor, right? Self awareness. Something to describe how accurate you are in pre-determining what will make you happy. I mean, we don't just think it's a crap shoot. We don't just think, "Ok, I'll drop a few grand on this 52" plasma to watch the ball games. MAYBE that will make me happy. Or maybe it will be like having a root canal. Who knows?"
No, I think we're pretty accurate, at least in choosing things we will enjoy. We just don't really seem to think about whether that enjoyment will be long lasting or not.
You'd think I'd given this a lot of thought. Not really. What I did give a lot of thought was my mother and why she behaved in the ways that she did. My mother loved to shop. My mother loved to buy things. I think she loved to shop a little bit more than she loved to buy things, but she loved to shop and buy things way more than she liked actually having things. Don't get me wrong. To anybody other than me, my mother would cut you to the quick if you were taking something that was hers. But other than the notion of how much stuff she had, she didn't care as much about those things. You could watch dust collect on some of them or notice packages that had never actually been opened. It didn't take me long to realize what she loved was shopping and buying. At first I saw it in some sort of terms of "the thrill of the hunt." Except I realized my mother's shopping style was much more like "shooting fish in a barrel." It must have been then that my mother talked about her childhood and repeated one of her stories.
I need to explain. That was what my mother talked about most. Her childhood. Over and over and over again. We existed in a weird world where no one ever even bothered to point out, "Hey I've heard this one before." We just listened as if it was the first time. I need to explain too that she and her sister never got along. They would hate each other for 20 year spans. As a child, I was instructed that, if I saw my aunt, I was to pretend I didn't see her.
When you live in families with weird rules like that, you spend a lot of time trying to understand what is going on.
My mother was a child during World War II. Even though there was rationing, my grandparents would take my mother and her sister out window shopping every Saturday. While I was living in their household and had no capability of doing anything else, my mother and father took me out shopping every Saturday. After I moved out, my parents still went out shopping every Saturday until my mother's poor health prevented her from going. Then she sent my father.
It was after my aunt died and I heard the details of her life that were previously unknown to me that I began to believe what I had already suspected. You see, my aunt was a hoarder too. She went shopping every Saturday too. What I decided was that one of those Saturdays back in the 40's was very special to those two little girls. Whatever happened. Whatever they purchased or simply dreamt of purchasing, it translated to them as happiness. But the rest of their lives, no matter what they bought, neither of them was ever really happy. It never lasted. Because the next Saturday? They were right out there again. I could be wrong, but I've always suspected if they simply had pieced things together like I did. If they had looked at the arrangement of their lives like I did, maybe they would have stopped shopping and actually ended up happy. But really I'm just guessing. After all, I'm the daughter who shopped every Saturday and ended up hating it. I'm the Queen of "know what you want, get in, and get back out again." I practically worship Amazon.com simply for existing.
If I'm right, though, maybe the self awareness we lack is about our empty holes. That's what I picture them doing, weekend after weekend. Frantically stuffing an empty hole with things.
Maybe this will work as a theorem.
Money is a tool. In order to properly use a tool, you need to know when and how to use it. Unless otherwise indicated, sunscreen won't protect you from bugs and bug-spray won't prevent your sunburn. Perhaps the people who are successful with money and always have what they need, know how and when to use it. While the people who struggle are throwing it into a big empty hole like my mother.
It's a theory anyway. But for me it gives an example of why we try and fail to buy happiness with money. My aunt and my mother didn't really want any of the things they bought. They were trying to buy that happy experience they had as children. I can relate to that. I've had a time period I thought was the happiest in my life and had it go away. If I thought it would have brought it back, I would have even gone shopping on a Saturday.
But it doesn't work that way. Because that isn't really happiness. It is something called attachment. I used to live in an "addiction is something that happens to other people" world. Then I had my own "attachment" incident. It's horrible. I felt like I would never be happy again. I couldn't even rationally see the entire picture. What I lost was everything wonderful. It had been all upside with no bad elements.
Except. At the same time, I could. I could rationally see the picture and I knew it hadn't all been a bed of roses. I knew there was something off in my logic. It was my feelings that were blind. They didn't seem to know or care about any of that.
Like I said, I've always been lucky. In this case, I had my aunt and my mother. I had witnessed this phenomenon up close and personal and I knew I didn't want any part of it.
The answer to how to stop trying to fill our empty holes, is to realize we don't really have any. It's like an exercise in the Law of Attraction. Believe you are lacking something and you will always be lacking. Focus instead on how much you actually have and how grateful you are for it. Or better yet, focus on all you can do for someone else. To date, my happiest moment involved gifts I gave someone I didn't even get to see open them. Trust me, your heart will be so full, you won't have any space to accommodate "lacking." You'll be too busy admiring the supernova of love you've suddenly discovered inside you.
You have to let go, though. See, all that time you've been shoving things into your empty hole, you believed you could fill it. You believed nirvana would come just when you smoothed over the top of that hole. You secretly loved your pain. You loved the fight. You gave yourself pep talks about how much you deserved it. (Both your current failures and your future success.) You are caught in the end reel of an old serial. Forever the hero, reaching for the unattainable. It's time to step off the screen, walk past the seats and out into the daylight. It's time to stop worrying about what you can be and be who you are.
Money is a tool. It can buy you pieces of happiness, freedom, peace of mind, comfort or a lot of other things you might want. It all depends on you, though. You have to know what you're shopping for.
Showing posts with label money. Show all posts
Showing posts with label money. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
My Intentions
It is well known that Americans don't have enough savings, particularly for retirement. They also carry a lot of debt. It is so well known, I don't need to bother looking up any statistics to prove it to you. It is common knowledge.
My intent is to help the 99% repair their relationship with money and turn their lives around. It is a daunting task that has three elements I fear I may not be able to overcome.
The first, why listen to me? I graduated from UC Davis with a BA in English, back when a BA seemed to mean enough every educated person didn't feel compelled to continue on for an MA or PhD. My dream was to be a writer and I have spent decades working in retail and playing at writing and photography. At the same time, valuing my free time and freedom itself, I have worked part time, three half days a week, for nearly two decades. Although my income lands me solidly among the 99%, the rest of my statistics are a little different. I don't carry debt. I have accumulated savings, including retirement savings. I have paid off my mortgage and own my house free and clear.
At least all of that was true when I began this project. Since then, I have been trying to sell my deceased parents home. Between paying to have a bridge repaired and having dumpsters delivered in order to ready the property for sale, my savings have been whittled down significantly. Even as it undermines my own confidence that I can do what I already did and teach others to do the same, it also underscores the necessity.
Money is a tool. That's all it is. Money is a tool by which you can buy education, comfort, and freedom. They say money can't buy happiness, but it can buy things which will bring a smile to a loved one's face. It can buy experiences a person will remember for the rest of his life. Money is nothing but a tool, but it isn't one like a hammer or a saw. It is more like putty or sand. You can find yourself running out and wishing you had more.
Second, a huge percentage of my financial strategy involves the Law of Attraction. Every time I open my mouth and try to explain its principles to somebody, I see that look on her face. The one that suggests I just told her that fairies are real and I was haunted last night by a banshee.
There was a joke on Saturday Night Live years ago about learning to be an art critic. After learning the fundamentals and beginning to critique a gallery's art, the student turned on patrons around her and criticized their outfits, their postures, their smiles. Looking for the negative and pointing it out comes as naturally to humans as breathing. When we've actually been given permission and free reign to do so? We become relentless bullies, nearly unstoppable.
The Law of Attraction is the belief that "like attracts like." We create our world with our thoughts.
I once read about a social experiment. A researcher gathered a group of people together and had them look at two straight lines drawn on a chalkboard. The two lines were exactly the same length, but the researcher had placed one individual in the crowd who claimed one of the lines were longer. It turns out, I can give you advice and tell you what you should do and you probably won't follow it, but one person placed in a crowd, confidently repeating a lie, can cause you to agree with him and doubt your own eyesight.
Every day we are surrounded with a negative onslaught of news supporting the notion of a world of scarcity. If abundance is mentioned, it is still framed as there being enough for everyone's needs, but not their greed. Many of us buy things we don't really want or need, frantically stuffing ourselves to feel happy, while feeling judged for our attempts.
I ask you, who hasn't purchased some stupid, silly item, perhaps for as little as ten dollars, that seemed so great at the time, but we are later ashamed to admit?
How can I ever convince drowning victims, under water for the second time, flailing about with no idea who will save them, that they can save themselves simply by changing their thoughts?
At this point in my life, it feels like I have been every type of emotionally damaged and unhappy there is to be. I can remember the days when my mouth would involuntarily scowl if I so much as saw a poster proclaiming "Love is a warm puppy." It's as if negativity isn't happy just existing. It has to roll around in the muck continually reaffirming its ugly existence.
"Ugh! This smells really bad. Here smell it."
"Ugh! That really stinks."
I have been dedicated to changing the way I think for decades. It still took me years to realize that love? It IS a warm puppy. Sort of. Or at least the sustained joyful warm feelings about life and its wonderful possibilities that you might feel when enjoying the company of a baby of almost any species.
Third, we are all unreliable narrators. In writing, an unreliable narrator is someone who tells a story, but who has a warped view and perception of everything. We each have our personal story and we tend to believe the details we tell ourselves. Yet we experience our lives through the distorted window of only seeing through our own point of view.
Think about that room with the chalkboard and two lines. Even though they end up united in an answer as to the length of the lines, if you ask them about the experience afterwards, they will all have a different story to tell. Some will have a simple recitation of facts. Others will have anecdotal details which may not appear to be connected to the event, or at least not to anyone other than the person whose viewpoint felt they were important. Unless the researchers are included, probably not one story will include the information one person was asked to lie.
At the same time, we continually second guess ourselves. We say we want to lose weight and doubt we have the will power. We ask the universe for some money. Buy a lottery ticket and say "I knew that was a waste of money" as we throw our losing ticket into the trash.
I recently had a bad break up. I loved that man so much. My heart felt as if it had shattered into a million pieces knowing it had ended. I cried and cried and cried. One day, posting happy little kittens to cheer myself up on Facebook, I noticed how many friends I had who were talking and interacting with me. My heart flooded with love and appreciation. It was then that I realized how close I had come to seeing only what I had lost when all I had to do was turn my head and see all of the good things and people who are still right here with me.
Really that is everything I am trying to get you to do. I am trying to get you to stop focusing on your losses and failures and to look and really see life's wonders. I want you to appreciate all of your good fortune and know it didn't happen by accident. You're not an ungrateful sinner who deserves only God's tolerance and indulgence. You aren't a bad boy who is too lazy or lacks willpower. Each and every one of us is no less a miracle than a blade of grass growing despite humans blocking its path with asphalt. Each and every one of us is as important and essential as every atom that makes up a molecule.
C'mon. (Metaphorically) take my hand and we can do this thing. Just do one thing for me first.
Turn your head.
My intent is to help the 99% repair their relationship with money and turn their lives around. It is a daunting task that has three elements I fear I may not be able to overcome.
The first, why listen to me? I graduated from UC Davis with a BA in English, back when a BA seemed to mean enough every educated person didn't feel compelled to continue on for an MA or PhD. My dream was to be a writer and I have spent decades working in retail and playing at writing and photography. At the same time, valuing my free time and freedom itself, I have worked part time, three half days a week, for nearly two decades. Although my income lands me solidly among the 99%, the rest of my statistics are a little different. I don't carry debt. I have accumulated savings, including retirement savings. I have paid off my mortgage and own my house free and clear.
At least all of that was true when I began this project. Since then, I have been trying to sell my deceased parents home. Between paying to have a bridge repaired and having dumpsters delivered in order to ready the property for sale, my savings have been whittled down significantly. Even as it undermines my own confidence that I can do what I already did and teach others to do the same, it also underscores the necessity.
Money is a tool. That's all it is. Money is a tool by which you can buy education, comfort, and freedom. They say money can't buy happiness, but it can buy things which will bring a smile to a loved one's face. It can buy experiences a person will remember for the rest of his life. Money is nothing but a tool, but it isn't one like a hammer or a saw. It is more like putty or sand. You can find yourself running out and wishing you had more.
Second, a huge percentage of my financial strategy involves the Law of Attraction. Every time I open my mouth and try to explain its principles to somebody, I see that look on her face. The one that suggests I just told her that fairies are real and I was haunted last night by a banshee.
There was a joke on Saturday Night Live years ago about learning to be an art critic. After learning the fundamentals and beginning to critique a gallery's art, the student turned on patrons around her and criticized their outfits, their postures, their smiles. Looking for the negative and pointing it out comes as naturally to humans as breathing. When we've actually been given permission and free reign to do so? We become relentless bullies, nearly unstoppable.
The Law of Attraction is the belief that "like attracts like." We create our world with our thoughts.
I once read about a social experiment. A researcher gathered a group of people together and had them look at two straight lines drawn on a chalkboard. The two lines were exactly the same length, but the researcher had placed one individual in the crowd who claimed one of the lines were longer. It turns out, I can give you advice and tell you what you should do and you probably won't follow it, but one person placed in a crowd, confidently repeating a lie, can cause you to agree with him and doubt your own eyesight.
Every day we are surrounded with a negative onslaught of news supporting the notion of a world of scarcity. If abundance is mentioned, it is still framed as there being enough for everyone's needs, but not their greed. Many of us buy things we don't really want or need, frantically stuffing ourselves to feel happy, while feeling judged for our attempts.
I ask you, who hasn't purchased some stupid, silly item, perhaps for as little as ten dollars, that seemed so great at the time, but we are later ashamed to admit?
How can I ever convince drowning victims, under water for the second time, flailing about with no idea who will save them, that they can save themselves simply by changing their thoughts?
At this point in my life, it feels like I have been every type of emotionally damaged and unhappy there is to be. I can remember the days when my mouth would involuntarily scowl if I so much as saw a poster proclaiming "Love is a warm puppy." It's as if negativity isn't happy just existing. It has to roll around in the muck continually reaffirming its ugly existence.
"Ugh! This smells really bad. Here smell it."
"Ugh! That really stinks."
I have been dedicated to changing the way I think for decades. It still took me years to realize that love? It IS a warm puppy. Sort of. Or at least the sustained joyful warm feelings about life and its wonderful possibilities that you might feel when enjoying the company of a baby of almost any species.
Third, we are all unreliable narrators. In writing, an unreliable narrator is someone who tells a story, but who has a warped view and perception of everything. We each have our personal story and we tend to believe the details we tell ourselves. Yet we experience our lives through the distorted window of only seeing through our own point of view.
Think about that room with the chalkboard and two lines. Even though they end up united in an answer as to the length of the lines, if you ask them about the experience afterwards, they will all have a different story to tell. Some will have a simple recitation of facts. Others will have anecdotal details which may not appear to be connected to the event, or at least not to anyone other than the person whose viewpoint felt they were important. Unless the researchers are included, probably not one story will include the information one person was asked to lie.
At the same time, we continually second guess ourselves. We say we want to lose weight and doubt we have the will power. We ask the universe for some money. Buy a lottery ticket and say "I knew that was a waste of money" as we throw our losing ticket into the trash.
I recently had a bad break up. I loved that man so much. My heart felt as if it had shattered into a million pieces knowing it had ended. I cried and cried and cried. One day, posting happy little kittens to cheer myself up on Facebook, I noticed how many friends I had who were talking and interacting with me. My heart flooded with love and appreciation. It was then that I realized how close I had come to seeing only what I had lost when all I had to do was turn my head and see all of the good things and people who are still right here with me.
Really that is everything I am trying to get you to do. I am trying to get you to stop focusing on your losses and failures and to look and really see life's wonders. I want you to appreciate all of your good fortune and know it didn't happen by accident. You're not an ungrateful sinner who deserves only God's tolerance and indulgence. You aren't a bad boy who is too lazy or lacks willpower. Each and every one of us is no less a miracle than a blade of grass growing despite humans blocking its path with asphalt. Each and every one of us is as important and essential as every atom that makes up a molecule.
C'mon. (Metaphorically) take my hand and we can do this thing. Just do one thing for me first.
Turn your head.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Because people always ask .....
Whenever I mention I am in the process of working through my deceased parents' estate and selling their house, someone will say, "I need to get advice from you in the future about what to do about that." Let's just say this is that advice.
There are two aspects to handling your parents estate to consider. The first is easy. It is simple legal paperwork. Don't attach a lot of fear or unhappiness to it. Just as when you were born, your parents filed a birth certificate announcing your name and relationship to them; paperwork will be filed announcing your death and the choices you made regarding what happened to your property. You can also file paperwork pre-deciding choices you may have in how you choose to die. Every bit of work you do towards doing that paperwork while you are still healthy is a loving gift to your children.
My father had a stroke in July 2010. He lost none of his mobility, but a very large portion of his memory. The very last check that cleared his bank account from before his stroke was one to the lawyer who drew up his Will, Trust, Durable Power of Attorney and an Advanced Health Directive regarding what lengths he would like a hospital to go to keep him alive should he need a ventilator or other machines.
I was very very lucky. I hadn't been nagging him to do any of that. Like most of you, the notion of bringing it up to him, particularly the part about the Will and Trust, felt like counting his money as my own before he died. He was 77 years old when he had those documents drawn up. He did not live to be 80.
You will need all four of those documents. Look in bookstores and online to see if you can do them yourself, but you will probably need to contact a lawyer to have them done. I had that and a few other things done a year or so ago and it cost me around $1000.00. Keep the originals. Show them to whoever insists on seeing an original, but make a lot of copies and give only those out. If you have only the Will, instead of the Will and Trust, you will lose money and wait somewhere around a year for probate to close. This is true no matter how simple the estate may seem. Do yourself a favor and make sure you get both the Will and the Trust. I cannot stress this enough.
You will need the Power of Attorney in case your parent gets dementia or is somehow otherwise incapacitated and you have to handle their affairs. Even with the Power of Attorney, you will be amazed how many businesses will insist that you fill out "their" forms regarding Power of Attorney. I was actually listed on my father's bank accounts as a co-owner, which is also a good idea to help pay for the medical bills that will begin adding up. It makes an easy transition from your father signing the checks to you signing the checks. Consider your name also being added to the title to your parents' automobiles or mobile home, if they happen to live in one.
Remember to check all medical bills against any medicare or health insurance that should be picking up part of the tab. They will not do any of the legwork for you. Avoid feeling cheap or like your parent doesn't deserve whatever medicare or assistance he or she has coming. You have no idea how long the illness will last or whatever illnesses may be waiting behind the current one. The goal is to keep your parent funded during this trying period. You can't afford to overlook any discounts or assistance that may help.
A side comment about dementia. If your parent suffers from that and is still able to live at home with you or outside caregiver assistance, at a bare minimum, remove the car keys where he or she can't find them. If you can get the car out of sight and mind, you will be happier. Trust me, you are going to hear, "When will I get to drive again?" more times than your parent ever heard "are we there yet?" It is an uncomfortable position to be in, essentially being your parents' parent. Telling him, "I didn't say you can't drive, the doctor did. They revoked your driver's license." It just doesn't get the job done.
Try to summon up all of the patience you can muster. Inside his mind, he does probably know what he wants to say. He just can't pick the right words anymore. My father went through a period where nearly everything became the word "Sine-aid." Think how frustrating it must be to think television remote and only be able to mumble "Sine-aid." Whatever personality he or she had before the stroke? If it was a bit negative or angry, expect that times two. Don't expect to receive patience in return. He feels powerless and chances are, you are the poster child for everything he thinks is currently messed up and wrong.
It is a very good time to discover small little tasks or favors he can do for you. Feeling useful and needed is an excellent combatant to the depression and boredom he may be beginning to face. Seniors with a good attitude who have dementia due to a stroke can recover quite a bit of what was lost. Or at least that was what I found when I read about it. Giving them puzzles or video games like "Big Brain Academy" can help. Try not to be too disappointed if they have a bad attitude. My father immediately sneered at any gift that showed up at his house even slightly looking like it was "good for him."
I can't offer much advice about the other aspect to handling your parents' estate. Your siblings. That was another place where I was very lucky. It may be lonely to be an only child when you're a kid and there is no one to help suffer the burden of caring for your aging parent, but there is also no one to fight with about distribution of heirlooms or how much their house is worth.
I would suggest simply trying to treat each other with kindness and dignity. If one person has been burdened with much of the caregiving, he or she may feel a bit more entitled. You may think that the most valuable piece in the estate, let's say a diamond ring or necklace, should be sold to benefit everyone, but your sister may remember playing dress up like Mommy and wearing it when she was three. While everyone is stressed by their recent loss, your brother also may be struggling with the near break up of his marriage. Communicate and be as honest as possible with each other. Try to have empathy. Above all, be grateful for whatever good things do come your way as a result of the estate and DO NOT fall prey to the limiting belief that the quality of the rest of your life will be determined by what you do or do not receive.
There are two aspects to handling your parents estate to consider. The first is easy. It is simple legal paperwork. Don't attach a lot of fear or unhappiness to it. Just as when you were born, your parents filed a birth certificate announcing your name and relationship to them; paperwork will be filed announcing your death and the choices you made regarding what happened to your property. You can also file paperwork pre-deciding choices you may have in how you choose to die. Every bit of work you do towards doing that paperwork while you are still healthy is a loving gift to your children.
My father had a stroke in July 2010. He lost none of his mobility, but a very large portion of his memory. The very last check that cleared his bank account from before his stroke was one to the lawyer who drew up his Will, Trust, Durable Power of Attorney and an Advanced Health Directive regarding what lengths he would like a hospital to go to keep him alive should he need a ventilator or other machines.
I was very very lucky. I hadn't been nagging him to do any of that. Like most of you, the notion of bringing it up to him, particularly the part about the Will and Trust, felt like counting his money as my own before he died. He was 77 years old when he had those documents drawn up. He did not live to be 80.
You will need all four of those documents. Look in bookstores and online to see if you can do them yourself, but you will probably need to contact a lawyer to have them done. I had that and a few other things done a year or so ago and it cost me around $1000.00. Keep the originals. Show them to whoever insists on seeing an original, but make a lot of copies and give only those out. If you have only the Will, instead of the Will and Trust, you will lose money and wait somewhere around a year for probate to close. This is true no matter how simple the estate may seem. Do yourself a favor and make sure you get both the Will and the Trust. I cannot stress this enough.
You will need the Power of Attorney in case your parent gets dementia or is somehow otherwise incapacitated and you have to handle their affairs. Even with the Power of Attorney, you will be amazed how many businesses will insist that you fill out "their" forms regarding Power of Attorney. I was actually listed on my father's bank accounts as a co-owner, which is also a good idea to help pay for the medical bills that will begin adding up. It makes an easy transition from your father signing the checks to you signing the checks. Consider your name also being added to the title to your parents' automobiles or mobile home, if they happen to live in one.
Remember to check all medical bills against any medicare or health insurance that should be picking up part of the tab. They will not do any of the legwork for you. Avoid feeling cheap or like your parent doesn't deserve whatever medicare or assistance he or she has coming. You have no idea how long the illness will last or whatever illnesses may be waiting behind the current one. The goal is to keep your parent funded during this trying period. You can't afford to overlook any discounts or assistance that may help.
A side comment about dementia. If your parent suffers from that and is still able to live at home with you or outside caregiver assistance, at a bare minimum, remove the car keys where he or she can't find them. If you can get the car out of sight and mind, you will be happier. Trust me, you are going to hear, "When will I get to drive again?" more times than your parent ever heard "are we there yet?" It is an uncomfortable position to be in, essentially being your parents' parent. Telling him, "I didn't say you can't drive, the doctor did. They revoked your driver's license." It just doesn't get the job done.
Try to summon up all of the patience you can muster. Inside his mind, he does probably know what he wants to say. He just can't pick the right words anymore. My father went through a period where nearly everything became the word "Sine-aid." Think how frustrating it must be to think television remote and only be able to mumble "Sine-aid." Whatever personality he or she had before the stroke? If it was a bit negative or angry, expect that times two. Don't expect to receive patience in return. He feels powerless and chances are, you are the poster child for everything he thinks is currently messed up and wrong.
It is a very good time to discover small little tasks or favors he can do for you. Feeling useful and needed is an excellent combatant to the depression and boredom he may be beginning to face. Seniors with a good attitude who have dementia due to a stroke can recover quite a bit of what was lost. Or at least that was what I found when I read about it. Giving them puzzles or video games like "Big Brain Academy" can help. Try not to be too disappointed if they have a bad attitude. My father immediately sneered at any gift that showed up at his house even slightly looking like it was "good for him."
I can't offer much advice about the other aspect to handling your parents' estate. Your siblings. That was another place where I was very lucky. It may be lonely to be an only child when you're a kid and there is no one to help suffer the burden of caring for your aging parent, but there is also no one to fight with about distribution of heirlooms or how much their house is worth.
I would suggest simply trying to treat each other with kindness and dignity. If one person has been burdened with much of the caregiving, he or she may feel a bit more entitled. You may think that the most valuable piece in the estate, let's say a diamond ring or necklace, should be sold to benefit everyone, but your sister may remember playing dress up like Mommy and wearing it when she was three. While everyone is stressed by their recent loss, your brother also may be struggling with the near break up of his marriage. Communicate and be as honest as possible with each other. Try to have empathy. Above all, be grateful for whatever good things do come your way as a result of the estate and DO NOT fall prey to the limiting belief that the quality of the rest of your life will be determined by what you do or do not receive.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
aha Moment
How can I say this? My mother used to discipline the family dog with a broom. She used to throw cats into our swimming pool, with me playing "catcher" in case they got into trouble, for entertainment. At a very young age I felt the awkward discomfort of being a partner to what I felt was a cruel act with which I was not in agreement.
The worst punishment I ever dealt an animal when I was a child was singing to the dog. My hand shaped like a microphone doing my best Judy Garland. As a young married woman, people told me the best way to get our Siberian Husky puppy to stop howling in the backyard was to slap her in the jaw. Hating the idea, I tried it only to be reduced to tears. I have had moments where my pets felt like the only friends I had. I would never ever abuse them. No rubbing their nose in a mess that they made. No screaming at them or striking them for breaking or soiling some possession of mine. It is simply an inanimate object and my pet is my friend and a creature to which I have made promises.
Today, my cat Peabody, the absolute love of my life, climbed onto the desk while I was working on the computer. Photographs I found in my deceased parents estate went sailing to the floor as his little kitty paws tried to find a comfy spot. I was smiling as I gently lifted him off the desk and set him into my lap, but then I was treated to the most wonderful of aha moments.
Trying to finish up my work so I could give him my undivided attention, I suddenly could hear his purr over anything else in the room. I could feel his purr rumbling my lap. Peabody is not really a lap cat and usually can be expected to settle on one for only a minute or two. Today, he seemed quite content to stay there indefinitely.
I ruffled the fur on his head until I could see his inner eyelids. Contentment. For both of us.
Noticing the scattering of my parents photos, I thought of my mother. "She could never have experienced this," I thought.
She would have yelled at her cat. No doubt throwing something or waving her hands to dislodge him. He would have run in fear from her and trusted her less the next time. My mother's cats had to be locked in the bedroom with her when she wanted them to stay. Peabody leads me through the house like he is guiding the presidential motorcade and sleeps with me every night, door open.
I am not a stranger to anger issues. If I did spring from the womb as enlightened as I am now, I spent many years lost from myself. I did have one cat who, while I never ever struck him, did hear far too much of my voice raised. I hated myself a little more each time I noticed how much more skittish he was becoming. I don't believe in anger management. I believe in not being angry.
No matter how normally placid you are or how volatile, in that moment when you feel the beast rising up your chest and calling voice and limbs to act, what if you stopped? Just waited. Pretend you are in a separate place where time has frozen. In that moment, there is raw potential.
Think about it. Why are you angry? It has everything to do with you. You feel like you have been slighted or ignored; treated to an injustice; been pushed past a threshold; or don't have a voice. Someone has inadvertently rubbed salt in your interior wounds. You have been triggered.
You can build an army of creatures who tiptoe around you, careful of your broken parts, but it will never make you feel any better.
Feel the solid heaviness in your chest. Feel the anger sting with near physicality. It hurts.
You really do have to do something different to make your life change. Do something different to feel something new.
What if, instead of the world letting you down, you are the one letting you down?
In that moment, while your anger is building, think of yourself as a god. Think of yourself as Poseidon or Neptune. You can be the storm that leaves wreckage in its wake, leaving everyone, including yourself, a little worse off than you were before. Or you can observe the anger just as if it was a hurricane or tsunami. Powerful, finite, meaningless.
It's just an emotion. It's just a hiccup of a ghost of the way someone once made you feel and you didn't like it. Depending on the circumstances, you didn't like it and you didn't feel right again for hours or maybe weeks afterwards. Worst of all, you actually served someone you love and care about a big steaming plate of something you would never want for yourself. Like my mother's cat, you trusted someone less and you passed along the baton by nurturing people who trust you less.
That trust is what you want. In that trust is love, respect, admiration, all the wonderful gifts you feel you are being denied. You build that trust. Each time you pass up the opportunity to "tear someone a new one," you lay another brick on the foundation.
Anyone who has to ask whether it is better to be feared or loved, has never felt love. If you have lived a life where creatures are free to love and trust you, guess what happens?
They love and trust you. I've found my pets even seem to instinctively know when I need a few more furry passes against my leg or a rumbling purr in my ear.
It's a beautiful thing.
You might be thinking. "But Angela, the title of this blog is 'No One Taught You About Money' and the only thing my anger has to do with money is how I feel when there's not enough of it."
Money responds to a quiet faith in its abundance. Money wants you to spend it. Not frivolously, but with kindness, intelligence, generosity and the faith you will always have more than enough. Those are all quiet and gentle mindsets. Consider them butterflies that will never land on a volatile surface. Have you ever trained a dog to come "off leash?" The miracle happens because the dog believes that you are the best and happiest experience to be had against the enticement of all other possibilities. Things happen when you can set aside dwelling on yourself and your own pain and focus instead on being kind, gentle and nurturing of others.
Your life changes and along with the change, come opportunities and possibilities for all the things you ever wanted.
The worst punishment I ever dealt an animal when I was a child was singing to the dog. My hand shaped like a microphone doing my best Judy Garland. As a young married woman, people told me the best way to get our Siberian Husky puppy to stop howling in the backyard was to slap her in the jaw. Hating the idea, I tried it only to be reduced to tears. I have had moments where my pets felt like the only friends I had. I would never ever abuse them. No rubbing their nose in a mess that they made. No screaming at them or striking them for breaking or soiling some possession of mine. It is simply an inanimate object and my pet is my friend and a creature to which I have made promises.
Today, my cat Peabody, the absolute love of my life, climbed onto the desk while I was working on the computer. Photographs I found in my deceased parents estate went sailing to the floor as his little kitty paws tried to find a comfy spot. I was smiling as I gently lifted him off the desk and set him into my lap, but then I was treated to the most wonderful of aha moments.
Trying to finish up my work so I could give him my undivided attention, I suddenly could hear his purr over anything else in the room. I could feel his purr rumbling my lap. Peabody is not really a lap cat and usually can be expected to settle on one for only a minute or two. Today, he seemed quite content to stay there indefinitely.
I ruffled the fur on his head until I could see his inner eyelids. Contentment. For both of us.
Noticing the scattering of my parents photos, I thought of my mother. "She could never have experienced this," I thought.
She would have yelled at her cat. No doubt throwing something or waving her hands to dislodge him. He would have run in fear from her and trusted her less the next time. My mother's cats had to be locked in the bedroom with her when she wanted them to stay. Peabody leads me through the house like he is guiding the presidential motorcade and sleeps with me every night, door open.
I am not a stranger to anger issues. If I did spring from the womb as enlightened as I am now, I spent many years lost from myself. I did have one cat who, while I never ever struck him, did hear far too much of my voice raised. I hated myself a little more each time I noticed how much more skittish he was becoming. I don't believe in anger management. I believe in not being angry.
No matter how normally placid you are or how volatile, in that moment when you feel the beast rising up your chest and calling voice and limbs to act, what if you stopped? Just waited. Pretend you are in a separate place where time has frozen. In that moment, there is raw potential.
Think about it. Why are you angry? It has everything to do with you. You feel like you have been slighted or ignored; treated to an injustice; been pushed past a threshold; or don't have a voice. Someone has inadvertently rubbed salt in your interior wounds. You have been triggered.
You can build an army of creatures who tiptoe around you, careful of your broken parts, but it will never make you feel any better.
Feel the solid heaviness in your chest. Feel the anger sting with near physicality. It hurts.
You really do have to do something different to make your life change. Do something different to feel something new.
What if, instead of the world letting you down, you are the one letting you down?
In that moment, while your anger is building, think of yourself as a god. Think of yourself as Poseidon or Neptune. You can be the storm that leaves wreckage in its wake, leaving everyone, including yourself, a little worse off than you were before. Or you can observe the anger just as if it was a hurricane or tsunami. Powerful, finite, meaningless.
It's just an emotion. It's just a hiccup of a ghost of the way someone once made you feel and you didn't like it. Depending on the circumstances, you didn't like it and you didn't feel right again for hours or maybe weeks afterwards. Worst of all, you actually served someone you love and care about a big steaming plate of something you would never want for yourself. Like my mother's cat, you trusted someone less and you passed along the baton by nurturing people who trust you less.
That trust is what you want. In that trust is love, respect, admiration, all the wonderful gifts you feel you are being denied. You build that trust. Each time you pass up the opportunity to "tear someone a new one," you lay another brick on the foundation.
Anyone who has to ask whether it is better to be feared or loved, has never felt love. If you have lived a life where creatures are free to love and trust you, guess what happens?
They love and trust you. I've found my pets even seem to instinctively know when I need a few more furry passes against my leg or a rumbling purr in my ear.
It's a beautiful thing.
You might be thinking. "But Angela, the title of this blog is 'No One Taught You About Money' and the only thing my anger has to do with money is how I feel when there's not enough of it."
Money responds to a quiet faith in its abundance. Money wants you to spend it. Not frivolously, but with kindness, intelligence, generosity and the faith you will always have more than enough. Those are all quiet and gentle mindsets. Consider them butterflies that will never land on a volatile surface. Have you ever trained a dog to come "off leash?" The miracle happens because the dog believes that you are the best and happiest experience to be had against the enticement of all other possibilities. Things happen when you can set aside dwelling on yourself and your own pain and focus instead on being kind, gentle and nurturing of others.
Your life changes and along with the change, come opportunities and possibilities for all the things you ever wanted.
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