Another Year Approaches.

Sunday 29th of December 2019

It’s early, almost one in the morning, so, I’m going with early. I just came across the concept of a no-spend-year.

This is relevant because earlier, or yesterday, I’m going with yesterday, I was pondering over ways I could change my feelings about money. There’s that theory that in order to manifest money you have to act like you already have money and spend, spend spend. I can’t help but think this sounds like a capitalist, elitist trick to keep the poor poor and consumerism… consuming. So, a no-spend-year sounds like the exact opposite and somewhat intriguing.

A no-spend-year isn’t about, well, not spending, it’s about reprogramming, shedding the ideas that a lot of people have about money, that I have. One of those ideas being, that wealthy people spend and buy, therefore to be wealthy, I have to spend and buy.

It’s not about denying yourself anything but freeing yourself by learning what is personally essential and what is cluttering your life. It’s learning the difference between what you need and want and what advertising and the opinions of other are telling you that you need and want.

I think it might be an interesting experiment, a little adventure to go on.

The first step is deciding what is essential, beyond food and toiletries, bills and so on. Some of my essentials would be candles, art supplies, herbal teas.

The second step is finding activities that require little to no money, which is probably harder but not impossible, and it seems like an interesting challenge, don’t you think?

Anyway, it’s late, or early, depending on the angle. I should probably get some sleep.

Later:

Sleep hasn’t helped me decide if a no-spend-year is for me or not. On one hand it’s an interesting new challenge, on the other, it seems like something I already do. I already talk myself out of things, limit myself, I can justify not spending money on something better than anyone. It is an interesting challenge, but I don’t think it’s my challenge. Huh, maybe I did decide. Well, let’s put some more thought into it. What could I gain from exploring this?

Maybe I’ll begin to appreciate what I have more, the things I can do more, the things I can do for myself rather than the things I can buy. I don’t know, even thinking about a no-spend-year is reminding me of my childhood.

I would hide school trips from my mum so that she wouldn’t feel bad about not being able to afford it, or have to give up something else just so I could go. I would feel separate when I went out with friends and they had money to spend on nick-knacks and food and I didn’t. I’d feel guilty and ashamed when they’d buy things for me. I’m still carrying all of that.

What would a no-spend-year do for me besides bring all that back up?

The art of seeing things clearly. Knowing something, understanding, it’s different from forgiving, somehow. The older I get, the more I learn, the more I understand the people around me, that’s a given, I suppose.

My grandfather for example, I understand, I see. He was a black immigrant, living in England. He worked as a cleaner, something I didn’t learn until I was a lot older. He would always say he worked for Royals Royce, leaving out the cleaner, letting the implication that he was some sort of care expert sit in its place. He was ashamed of his job, of what he’d been reduced to in England. He did the work, no matter how demeaning it felt to him, to support his family. He was surrounded by racism, by class politics, the rage directed at him.

I understand now, the rage he must have felt, the shame he held from not being respected as a human being, let alone, as a man. Was it too much to ask to be respected in his own home?

Although I never intended to disrespect him, none of us did. My bluntness and curiosity, my oblivion to what he went through on a daily, activated his wounds, causing him to lash out in ways he couldn’t else where.

In doing this, he created wounds in me, woke up deeper, ancestral ones, just as I had done in him. Our relationship just became a viscous cycle of activating each others wounds. I’m starting to think that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. You have to be aware of wounds to begin healing them. Maybe this is me forgiving him.