Friday, April 24, 2009

Abundantly Broke!!

Today my beautiful car went on a little field trip to visit her Swedish countrymen.

She had been crying for some attention. Her green tears first noticed in a pub parking lot, on St. Patrick's Day. The IRE sticker was insult, this an outrage. She had had enough. I would refill her ducts and she would cry even more. This went on for weeks. Then the crying became sobs, her reservoir could not be filled enough. I pleaded with her, just stop the tears for a little while longer, let me get a paycheck and then I will seek professional assistance.

Alas her tears pained me so, her temperature rising I had no choice, she needed help. I had no idea where the money was going to come for said help, yet she needed some lovin'. I got the news, she needed a new water pump and thermostat. Gulp! How much? Wow, that much? You can't use some duct tape and sealant? No. Do what you gotta do. I kicked around, feeling poor, feeling weak. Worried how the money was going to come. My focus myopic and mundane. A fine mess I've gotten myself into.

Fucking foreign car! Fucking Bush. Fucking School. Fucking Universe. I hate having no money. I hate being poor. Fucking Bankers! Fucking credit scam! Fucking Volvo! Fucking Idiot. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! The blame game at full throttle. Then a vision came to me, by vision I mean mailman, pardon, letter carrier. Heard him more than saw him. Maybe I can pay for my car today. Off to the mailbox, come on baby, let there be a check in there. Desperation; fear; the cringe as I realize that if there's not a check in there I'm going to have to borrow money. Again. And then I stopped myself. Literally stopped myself in my tracks, took in a breath.

Do I want to attach all this gunk, all these fears to my poor mailbox? To one check? I need to use a few of my tools! What an opportunity to make a different choice or two. And what's all this about being poor? I'm not poor. Broke sure, not poor.

I have never been more broke than I am right now. I could make failed attempts at the blame game ~ See above. Fucking Bush! ~ but I take full ownership of where I am right now. And why wouldn't I? I'm Broke!! Abundantly Broke! I have not been this happy in years, maybe ever. I feel richer today than when I had my coffers overflowing with cash.

In the past I've been poor, which is very different than being broke. Sure they hang out together, yet they are not the same. To me poor is a state of mind, a state of being. There's never enough. The world seems a drab shade of gray. Being poor is not fun. Being broke has it's moments, like today when I worried about how I was going to pay for my car repairs, yet I am light years away from being poor.

Broke is just a stop on the journey of life. Sure I have no money, but I am appreciating all that I do have. Great friends who will feed, clothe, and house me if need be. A beautiful apartment near the beach(Fuck where is the rent going to come from!). A loving supportive family. My health. A fancy foreign car. The list is endless. I'm not poor at all, I am rich beyond my wildest dreams. I just don't have any money right now. What an opportunity to live in abundance.

Back to my great mailbox adventure. With a new mindset, a little more optimism, I strolled out to the front yard. Keys in hand, tune in heart I open the box. Surprise! A beautiful thin white envelope, not a bill this time, an honest to goodness check. Enough to pay for the repairs, and even some left over. I ain't broke, I am rich!

Yes I am ready for some more income. Money doesn't buy happiness, but then again it's not the root of all evil. You hear me Universe?! I'm ready for some currency flowing my way. And I am so grateful for all you have provided for me. I'm ready for more!

I'm not saying that the check wasn't going to be there if I hadn't take that moment. Then again I ain't saying it would have been there if I hadn't.

What I do know is the slightest shift in my focus and I was filled with gratitude, not despair. Full of promise instead of hopelessness. Full of riches, not empty pockets.

Now I'm off to my Yankee voodoo doll. I'm not saying that I'm the reason the Sox are going to sweep this weekend. But then again, I'm not saying I'm not the reason for the sweep. Go Red Sox!

Love, light and a chilly Budweiser.

1 comment:

  1. Points deducted to all readers for missing the typo. The abbreviation for Ireland is IRL, not IRE. Funny a little ire slipping in.

    As always, writing the wrongs,
    The Bitter Spiritualist