In times of scarcity, it can feel like the end of the world.
It can seem like you’re walking on eggshells around life,
terrified of any little unexpected thing, because your nerves and your bank
account are not prepared.
These days, people want your money, maybe they’re even harassing
you about it. Your job doesn’t care that you lose sleep at night, but they do
expect you'll plow forward as if you didn’t, and if you don’t have access to
relief via family or like support systems, these economic hard times can be a
disaster, both physically and psychologically.
Like many of my peers, I’m in the middle of one of those
difficult times. Everything has bottomed out and the abundance of the last few years has
hidden from me. At 33 years old, I’m living paycheck to paycheck, single and
barely scraping by, and looking at taking on a third job to ease the financial stress.
And I’m not alone. This is the state of
affairs for so many in our country today.
And to think…things were going so well. ;)
As is often the case, when anything seemingly “bad” happens
to me, I try and understand why. I try and figure out what lessons I haven’t
learned properly that a hardship would need to return again to teach it to me.
Granted, I’ve been more budget obsessed now than I ever
have in my life. I count every dollar, buy the least expensive of everything,
live like a hermit, which I’d never done before—even when I should have. Of course, it's all on me now, so, a girl's gotta go what a girl's gotta do. I’m finessing my money managing abilities out of pure,
brutal necessity, and what’s more, I’m becoming more aware of my credit history.
In fact, I pulled up and reviewed my credit report (student loans *groan*) for the first time in my
life the other day. (Okay, it was like 3 in the morning, but, if you’re going
to lose sleep over finances, you might as well do something constructive.)
Aside from properly honing my master miser skills and
mindfully monking away until my pocket book loosens up a little (you see what I did
there? With the alliteration?), I’m discovering some other impacts of
living a tight-budgeted life, as well.
For one thing, I’ve always been awfully afraid to ask for help, never really feeling safe to do so from anyone. But this whole period
has taught me to swallow my pride. In fact, I’ve had to swallow it hard. And it
still stings. But sometimes you just need to have faith that you won’t regret
it. And if you do, well, you know who you can trust and who you can’t.
For another, I’d really like to know when the heck I lost
appreciation for the small things. For instance, tea. A mug of tea is virtually
free, but, it’s so comforting. It’s like a hug in a cup. And sometimes, just
holding that warm teacup in your hands is the nicest feeling. Of course there are always books, but I’ve
never neglected those. Surprisingly, however, I’ve a new found appreciation for
curling up in the corner of the sofa when no one else is home and watching—GASP--television.
Yes, folks. The evil boob tube can be quite a nice distraction sometimes, one
that I hadn’t paid attention to in ages, but, there’s some cool stuff on
that there magic box. Especially travel shows. Those are terrific escapist
methods, for sure.
This bleaker phase is also reminding me how much I need
people—the ones who matter most to me—close by and in my life. I’d moved to the
Pacific Northwest with the threefold intent of a.) Going on an adventure, b.)
Proving to myself that I could survive as a single woman far away from any comfort zones and c.)
Getting to know myself, aside from anyone else’s influence. Done, done, and
done. But now that I’ve gone in the opposite extreme, I honor my need for beloved
family and friends. I can be adventurous and
have a home to return to. This is actually okay.
But back to simple things. An example: I was sitting at the kitchen
table today, fresh from a highly strategic and justifiably obsessive-compulsive grocery run, enjoying
a glass of Gatorade (by the way, powder mix is way cheaper than buying pre-made
beverages…just sayin’), and I heard a bird singing. I was just sitting still,
without a computer in front of my face, listening, sipping my broke-ass
drink and listening to Tweety and I thought, right now, I’m okay. In this
moment, I’m well. Which brings me to another point.
Living in the moment.
You don’t really have a choice but to live in the now during
tough periods, otherwise you’re liable to lose your mind. I can’t tell you how
many times I’ve had to stop and remind myself that, no matter what happens,
even the worst case scenarios, if I am breathing—I’m okay. I tell myself, “Right
now, you’re fine. Just be here now.” It’s helped me a lot, I’ll tell you.
Paradoxically, this has also pushed me to plan my next steps and assess my
goals. I figure, the last few years here in Seattle have been a breeze, but
that’s changed now, and that means a call to really alter things. When it gets
too hard, it’s a signal for change, I think, whether inner or outer (in this case both).
I couldn’t exactly tell you what the next year will bring,
only to say I sense a full circle outcome on the horizon. It’s always some kind of
grand surprise for me, this life. But whether I’m financially cushioned or
counting my pennies, one thing is for certain—I won’t be taking anything for
granted. I’ll be stronger, but humbler. And I’ll be able to milk two
week’s worth of groceries for 50 bucks. I win.
Xo
Jen
