What about joy....

There was a time when my heart burned to be a famous novelist. Writing a story has always been the most fun thing I could ever do.

Now I have a difficult time feeling as though it is a worthwhile occupation.  There are so many stories already in the world, so many books and now blogs.

Perhaps it is just that I have surrounded myself with people who don't read fiction.

It is difficult for me to  write if there is no hope of a sympathetic audience.

Yet I write this and feel my heart contract for lack of joy.

A funny dream

Last night I dreamt of having friends. So many friends, like a tribe of friends. Someone I knew, someone who liked to give parties,  was there.  We were at odds when last I saw her, we were friends again now.

 It occurred to me when I woke up what a great wealth it would be to have all my old friends back.

All the people I have ever loved, to have them love me again.

Just the way they use to.

I will try it on myself and see if I can manage it.

Generosity

In my mind wealth means the ability to be generous without feeling that unpleasant pinch inside.

My generosity is forced now. I make myself give.

Don't do it then?
I've tried that.
I've tried re-gifting and giving just the amount necessary so that I don't feel deprived of anything myself, but that amount gets smaller and smaller and the pinch gets bigger. Misers have cramped souls. Frugal is good, stingy is bad.

Generosity is wealth.

Can I give too much. I don't think I'm really in danger of doing that.  But to have nothing to give away, no glass of water, no kind word, no meal or $10 tip or birthday cake, that makes me feel as though I were really poor.

Of course inside myself I always say that I have not given enough. The whole world is my business and I would need an infinite supply of everything to satisfy all of that. It's just a  desire. A desire that speaks of generosity and wealth to come.

In a new world

I was thinking about dying this morning. It has a lot in common with moving.

When I moved from my longtime hometown last year I left a lot of people behind.

Oh it's not as though I moved to Mars, I will see them again, we call, we text, we email.

But the relationship has changed and will never be what it was when  I was living there.

 That is a really good description of  dying.

How does this relate to prosperity.

Well,  the less afraid I am of painful things, like dying,

the more life here seems like a gift and not a trial

and that is a great wealth.

an upcycling minimalist

I don't mean to denigrate the concept, but there is a real conflict here.

Everything I read on this subject says free up your energy, get rid of anything that is not essential to your well being.  If I were a billionaire would I still have a drawer full of semi ratty socks?

Yet if I am only surrounding myself with those things I really love, what about upcycling? Turning something old into something new requires that you hang on to the something old until you can find a use for it.

There are many things I have given away that I later found out I needed. But you can't keep everything. Some things do wear out, and turning a few worn out and faded t-shirts into a sad looking skirt doesn't really help my minimalist wardrobe.

Classic clothing cannot be made out of upcycled materials.
At least not very often.

Upcycled usually means funky.

So the choice is whether to hang on to things that would end end up in a landfill, trying to find some, ( usually funky), way to make use of them or to eliminate the clutter and and keep only a few quality possessions, in reality adding (perhaps less but still some) to our throw away society.
Minimalist is usually fairly stark and uncreative.
The upcycle world is very creative but fairly messy.

Which feels wealthier?
At first glance of course minimalist seems as though it is the way to go. All that sleek unencumbered jet set elegance. I like it and it makes me feel wealthy and limited, ie. poor.

My creativity seems to require that I have lots of stuff around to make things out of.  Just having the stuff to make stuff out of feels kind of wealthy. Even if that stuff is things that other people have thrown away.
Still, I do not like clutter and dealing with junk can get to me, that is, make me feel poor.

Help.

Shame

Sometimes I feel ashamed for not being wealthy.

I should be famous too.
To be worthy of breathing the air and growing old I should be wealthy and famous.

It doesn't matter what I did to acquire the money or the fame.These two things are the only things worth striving for.

Everything else is just an impractical  pipe dream.

Tree-hugger- hippie- mystic- mushy stuff.

I think I am hanging out with the wrong people.

I am definitely hanging out with the wrong people.

God and Money

Can I ask God for money?
Well I suppose I can always ask. I've asked for allot of things over the years. Asking for things doesn't work very well and it makes me uncomfortable, it seems mean. Nearly everyone on this earth could use more money asking God for that seems small. God is for bigger things.
The other trouble with asking God for money is the risk, what if I don't get it. That is  the problem with prayer. When I pray for understanding or fearlessness, the response it immediate. Just the thought of praying for it brings it along in bucket loads.
The turnaround time for objects is much longer. Perhaps the trends of time in  the material world have a certain momentum,  it takes awhile to turn the semi truck trailer  that is my life,and to get it going in a different direction.
I have learned though, that I have to ask. It's not about whether God knows what's happening, It's about whether I'm interested in doing something different.
It can't hurt to ask.
Well actually it can.
Like when I empty my whole soul into a prayer and then nothing happens and I am crushed.  But something always happens from it, just not always right away.
When I pray like that I only need to do it once. I hear back and then I wait and see.  A yes from God can mean allot of things. No's are good too, at least I know where I am at, no more wondering. God says no, then don't even try it.
I find I pray reflexively when I'm scared. I'll find myself saying a line from the Hail Mary over and over without even listening to it. I'm not sure if that is really prayer. But then in some way every thought has to be.

That feeling

Feeling wealthy isn't money. Money can get it for you but money alone isn't it.

Hugs and kisses make me feel wealthy, I never felt so poverty stricken as when I was deprived of a loving touch.
Buying anything does it, even if it's just a  t-shirt from a second hand shop. The charge is nearly the same as if I'd bought a new car. I know it's weird.
Nature too, the ocean, trees but only if it doesn't look too well used. The parks where I have to keep stepping aside for the joggers and the bikes, not wealthy. The beach full of other people, not wealthy. The beach on a cold day with a 20 mile an hour wind, the beach when I have it all to myself. That kind of beach makes me feel wealthy.
Beauty but I don't want to own it. A Van Gogh ,a Kandinsky, a sculpture by Rodin.  Just knowing it exists is enough, as a human I feel wealthy.
Talking about money almost always makes me feel poor. The only thing I want to know about money is that there is enough of it. Investing, flipping houses, stocks, lotteries all make me edgy.
Whenever I have only me to take care of I try to spend as little as I can. My partners all seem to have bigger dreams than I do. Or just different ideas of wealth maybe.

What makes me feel wealthy

A new place to live. The quest for the perfect apartment/ condo/ house/ townhouse non hovel structure where I could feel at home. The internet is only moderately helpful in this regard. I certainly looked at alot of pictures. I know the drill I had my  list of priorities.

First were the things the place had to have, the non negotiable can't live withouts,
Next the would be nice to haves
 then the please don't let it have this.

It still didn't really help, all the places were so different.
How do you compare a 1500 square foot townhouse in the city close to work with not a blade of grass in sight to a 1200 square foot house in a suburb with a tree, one tree and little bit of grass that's a longer commute.
We could save money by living even farther away from work, in a house that is really quite cute, but the neighborhood  is iffy and I'd be afraid to walk outside after dark.
It is true that I could get use to living almost anywhere. I become oblivious to my surroundings in time and so in one way it doesn't really matter.
But .....my surroundings do affect me. Sometimes I have to fight with them, and it can take a lot of energy to make a bad place work.
So this quest  is actually important.

As the time for action drew near and we decided to drive by a couple of the places and  try and imagine  what it would feel like to live there.
It didn't help much at first. My standards kept falling. I'd look at a place and say well it is a bit ratty  but the house next door is nice and it does have a backyard.
Just looking at the outside of some of the places  made me feel depressed. The neighborhoods were inconsistent.  Driving down one street I felt the urge to  press the door lock button then I'd turn the corner and see a house that was close to perfect. Lots of trees, a porch, big windows, pretty, actually pretty. None of the houses I admired were for rent of course.
Then we came to a condo, the second lowest form of living space on my list, but it was new and it was near a park, it was a bit far from work but  the idea of living there made us feel wealthy. That was it.
That place was of course not available, that would have been too easy, but now we had a feeling to go by. That was the question I had to ask.

We did find a place on Saturday.  We looked at lots of places, I would ask myself as we stepped inside, would I feel wealthy living here? Sometimes the answer was equivocal.  Well I wouldn't feel poor. It would be okay, I could do it.  
 In the end we chose one that looks a bit like a resort hotel. It is an apartment, my lowest form of living space, it is not all that big, but it is new and we have a view of a lake and a balcony and many windows and it made us feel wealthy just to look at it.
I know this sounds like marketing ploy. But different things make different people feel wealthy. Of course I had to compromise, because of my partner.
My ideal home would be a grand tree house. If not that then maybe an old victorian house with lots of windows surrounded by trees. You get the picture - trees.

One of  the places we saw had wonderful trees. It reminded me of camp. It was an apartment but it had a big balcony all along one side and the view was so peaceful. Unfortunately the carpet was old and it smelled, it looked like the three stooges did the painting and the kitchen was fit only for someone who's idea of cooking was take out.  But the trees were amazing.  I might have gone for it. The trees would have made up for the rest of the place, I think. My partner however, would have been ashamed to invite our friends over. That would not do. Also I was reminded that I cook.

Our next place will have trees.

What if....

So I was thinking last night. What if everyone won the lottery.

Would that work?

There would be no servants. probably no garbage men, or coal miners.
Everyone would have to look after themselves again.

If everyone were wealthy it would be the same as no one having money.

How interesting.

Then it's the not  the money that makes rich people wealthy, it's the  poor people

Manifesting money

Enough. Enough trying  to fix my mind so that it will manifest grace and abundance. I need it. I feel desperate to get it too. 

All the websites say that desperation is bad. It is honest though. When I feel small and cut off from everything, desperation is what I have to offer. I can't offer what I don't have.

So, this morning I have decided to pray for wealth for everyone. Every single person in the whole world needs to be wealthy or I won't be satisfied.  

Affirmations, prayers, positive thinking rituals, whatever.  I can't feel comfortable with them, they aren't real, unless I ask for what I really want. And that is it. I want everyone to win the lottery.

 I want the Publishers Clearing House people to show up at every single door, hovel, tent and homeless person's grocery cart and hand them $5000 a week for life. I want it for everyone and I won't pray for anything else.