Hello Yummy You,
Matches, little boxes of matchsticks used to light candles and fires, offered me a potent discovery of muscle building and being met. In my moving, packing, cleaning out of family home intensity (you may recall from previous blogs), a dear, dear, dear friend came to help near the end of the packing scene.
It was the point in packing where I needed to get the shit in boxes, labeled for storage, goodwill, or transport, and finalized. I knew I was kicking the can down the road for future clearing and cleaning. But I had run out of sorting steam and time was not on my side. The pile of stuff – ceramic vases, an old flowered crock pot, random cloth napkins and placemats, an assortment of kitchen utensils, hard covered books yet to be read, three glass jars of books of matches and more were laying around the room.
My friend fixated on the jars of matches. From her view, a perfectly wonderful and wise view, three glass jars of matches did not make sense and why was I keeping them separate, in jars and so many?
Inside my mind, and heart and belly, I was totally aligned and thrilled with my three jars. We had three places and spaces for one jar to find a home: our cottage in SC, our garage in ME and our house in ME. I use matches daily to light a candle. It’s my thing.
Without asking me anything about my way of keeping matches, with a generous desire to help, she began with instructions to change my way. Her authority on the matter began to crush my confidence.
Did I need all of these matches?
Where were these matches from? Surely, they meant something to me.
Three jars were too many and inconvenient.
My evening assignment was to pour all of them in a plastic bag, retrieve one matchbook at a time and remember the significance of the moment. Discard the glass jars. And again, for emphasis, how many of these do I need?
So, I began to follow her directions. And I felt my insides squirming, steaming, sinking, and shrinking. Then I stopped. This felt familiar. I felt shame. I was doing it wrong. I was a child being reprimanded. I was a student being admonished. I was a new employee being scolded.
No, I am an adult, here and now. What’s really happening?
I found my body.
My breath lengthened.
My belly and heart opened.
My spine held me in clarity and confidence.
My voice expressed.
I salvaged my jars and matches.
I shared that my way is matches in a jar. That’s my brain map and how I easily find matches in my home, not in a plastic bag at the bottom of a drawer.
I shared that my way is lighting a candle every day, not occasional use.
I shared that I loved her and appreciated this experience to uncover my shame.
I shared that I would use my experience for the benefit of others.
Because you know this relates to a favorite subject, MONEY.
You see, we all have our way with money. Some of our way works well, for us. Some of our way is not so helpful. But until we are allowed to share our money way, to feel genuinely received by our money way, and to be respected, we struggle to receive a new way.
We struggle to access new and helpful money practices.
Everyone has a unique money way and I have never met anyone who was completely void of a solid workable money way. Let me say this differently.
Everyone has at least one beneficial money practice that can be the spark of many.
We begin with what is working, and grow from there. Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water, remember?
My job, our job as financial professionals, is to see the vein of gold in your current way, and then discover additional money practices – for you – to extract the gold from your money way and strengthen your money muscles with best new practices to enhance your potential for positive results.
Honoring you and your ways is an act of dignity, for you and for me. Notice that in this action of mutual respect, we are building a new way of relating and respecting in the world of money.
That’s sooooo incredible. Booyah!
Oceans of respect for all ways,