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Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Defining Financial Health and Wellness

With respect to financial health, I have learned that many of our deviant views about money come directly from our parents. For example, perhaps they were poor farmers who worked hard all day, every day. The children often heard the words, "You've got to work hard to make a living!" Chances are you have a consciousness of poverty and struggle. Before we can change that belief in our own lives, we must come to terms with strange parental beliefs. I remember the day when it occurred to me that my parents had erroneous beliefs about money. Sadly, I was in my 40s.
 
Why didn't I recognize the failings of my parents sooner?
 
Well, upon reflection I see that children of my generation were conditioned to never question the odd things our parents did or said. My father set himself in the family as the final authority on all matters. He was equal to God. As children, we were told in no uncertain terms that God gave him his patriarchal authority. Because of that, he was infallible, like his God. As children, disobeying our father was tantamount to disobeying God.
 
Nevertheless, there were some things we took for granted as children. As farmers, we had plenty of food year round. My parents had approximately an acre of garden space and fresh food was bountiful all summer. When winter arrived, we had much food preserved to see us through till spring. Also, we had plenty of firewood to keep our furnace stoked all night. My father saw that our home was always toasty warm through the perishing-cold Manitoba winters. He enlisted the help of my brothers to keep a large supply of wood on hand. In fact, we had cords of wood stacked directly behind our house. We also had a "wood room" in our basement, which was well stocked during winter months. The wood was chopped, dry, and ready for the furnace, as needed.
 
Clothing was an issue that divided our family into "boys" and "girls." It seemed that it was more important to clothe the boys because they worked harder on the farm than any girl could. Especially me, because my interests were more creative. I preferred to write, draw, dance, sing, or play the piano — like was I in the wrong family??? My parents always emphasized there was no money to be made in those trivial pursuits which I found so alluring. Therefore, boys were more valuable, according to my father. Mom usually sewed our clothes, at least while we were young. I always had to wait until my brothers were clothed before Mom would outfit me. Sometimes Mom remodeled a piece of clothing that the neighbors handed down, which their children had outgrown. The neighbors noticed and responded to our need, especially after our house burned down. As I got older, Mom taught me how to sew. As a result, I began to sew my own clothes out of recycled cloth. For example, I would cut the bottoms off of long, full, ruffled skirts or dresses. Often that was enough to create an entirely new outfit — a dress, perhaps. In high school, I took the home economics program and sewed myself a new skirt one year and a new jumper the next year. "Every bit counts!" That seemed to be my parents' definition of financial health. They took great pride in their resourcefulness, as a kind of compensation for being cash poor.
 
So, when you grow up feeling devalued, how do you rise to that challenge? Some people become aggressive and set out to prove their parents are "wrong." Unfortunately, I was too brainwashed to question that concept until many years later — well after I had entered the work force.
 
Fortunately, I elected to learn typing in high school by enrolling in a business program. Yes, the high school education system in Manitoba offered subjects in basic accounting, shorthand, business practices, and typing back then. Now, at great cost, students must attend a business school, a college, or a university to obtain what used to be taught freely in high school. As a result, I became a brilliant typist — I was top of my class. Once my father knew I could type like a demon, he enlisted me to type all of his business letters and opinion editorials. He had many strong opinions — did I tell you?
 
I can laugh about it now. My father, no matter how gruff and grouchy he was, secretly appreciated my brilliant office skills. He never complained or criticized these, as he could find no fault. My work was consistently professional and impeccably polished.
 
So, when I left high school, I always knew I could make a living using my typing and business skills. And I did just fine with those skills. I maintained my own apartment for many years on my administrative and creative projects income. At last I had my own financial health — an improvement over that of my parents.
 
Then, Microsoft computers appeared on the business scene. After I divorced my first husband, I found myself temping in Saskatoon after a move from Lethbridge, Alberta. I learned that the agency offered free classes for their staff to become proficient users in Word, Excel, PowerPoint, and Publisher. The temp agency had good business sense, ensuring continuous business for themselves as a credible supplier of cutting edge, computer-savy users. I signed up every spare chance I could to sharpen my computer skills. In a short time, I succeeded in obtaining a couple of certificates in proficiency. Those skills helped me land a permanent job in a research venture at the University. That served me well until lately, when I had a longing to advance my skills again. This time I wanted to learn the Adobe Creative Suite of programs (CS5) in order to lay out print materials and build websites, among other things. Well, I successfully accomplished that goal within two years. As a result, I gained wonderful experience in producing books, catalogs, newsletters, posters, conference programs, business cards and stationery — and even some art!
 
Currently, I'm between jobs and that tends to make me a little anxious. However, I remind myself that I have been through rough spots several times in my life. In fact, I've come through some massive life changes — what I call "dark night of the soul" stuff. No matter how huge the challenges, I've always maneuvered through financial issues successfully to reach a new plateau of financial health. Maybe next time I'll work from home — writing, creating art, and producing print materials. I trust I will find employers who appreciate and value my professional skills as much as I do. I know they will feel lucky to put my services to use.
 
So, again, I believe that once we are adults, we can sift through the beliefs about money to eliminate thinking errors put upon us by our parents. When I think about my folks, it is easy to understand why they thought the way they did. They survived the great depression — the "dirty thirties" — and as a result they believed life would be difficult and they would live poorly. On the other hand, they were diligent to ensure their children had a better life. Yes, even for me, the one girl in a family of six brothers, I grew up with a strong work ethic!
 
Certainly  now as adults, we face some of the same challenges that our parents did. Nevertheless, I believe all the lessons we learn as children provide the exact experience that we need to live this life fully. Success is assured if we remain true to our soul's yearnings.
 
When I write about the "soul's yearnings" indeed I realize that financial success depends on all the other factors such as spiritual health, physical health, as well as mental and emotional health being in balance.
 
Thankfully, I am learning to follow my heart and soul on all levels to my next adventures. After all, my soul is in charge!
 

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Monday, August 29, 2016

Growing a New Spine

When I moved to Vancouver, I elected to work with a shamanic woman who I believed could help me heal from the religious dogma inflicted upon me since birth. After about a year or so of visits, she told me she had discovered — she could see — I had begun to grow a new spine. She consulted with one of her master students, who confirmed what the healer saw. The spine looked to her like “a twig with some new green growth appearing along my old spine. The old spine was disintegrating.”
 
I was curious. Apparently out of my “stump,” emerged some new growth, a baby tree had come forth. The tribunal of elders who judged me could not — ever — destroy my faith. I was going to be okay. I was healing because perhaps I believed in myself enough.
 
On the one hand, I was skeptical. On the other hand I was hopeful.

I couldn't argue with my body, it is true. The pain in my body is gone, curiously. I now stand straight and tall. I have a coat that tells the story. I used to wear the same coat as a member of the family religion, where the belt used to tie just under my chest. The belt is now situated in a new area of my coat. The belt now sits four inches lower. My chest has opened up. I stand upright now, and the belt now sits at my waist. My waist is now separated from my chest by a bodice.
 
I now thank the tribunal of elders for giving me the boot. “Kicking me out” was just what I needed to get away from the family religion and become self-directed and independent — get on with my life. And the coat tells the whole story. Is it a miracle? Some might think so. I say, "maybe, but not necessarily." It still leaves me with a curious question: "Why is my health improving... now that I am disfellowshipped?"
 
I am grateful that I can trust myself — finally. I can believe in myself. My own life experiences have demonstrated to me that I am able to heal when I let go of rules and dogma that no longer serve my best interests.

 


 

Follow on Twitter: @_phoenixoffaith

Copyright © 2016. Permission is granted to copy
and re-distribute this transmission on the
condition that it is distributed freely.