The other
morning, I had one of those “aha” moments, which I must share on this Epiphany.
I know I am
not the only person on the planet for whom “the bottom line” has been a
trauma. I guess it doesn’t matter whether
you are making minimum wage; or making a reasonably good income but it all
seems to be eaten up in basic living costs, college loans, or other obligations;
are a millionaire with millions more in debt; or someone like me who, after
years of hopeless under-earning in the wrong fields, and dramatic efforts to get
back on track, has taken an intermission to try to regroup. If, at regular moments, you have looked at
your checkbook balance and seen pocket change, it is likely that you have felt
that sick, hopeless feeling in the pit of your stomach. This feeling has been a regular visitor my
whole life. A mere glance at that number
always elicited a tuneful torrent of negative thoughts: “I’ll never get this
right,” “I’m a hopeless case,” “I’ll never figure out how to make money doing
something I actually like,” “I don’t get this game at all,” “I’ll never make it
through this month,” “I give up,” etc. Over
time, law of attraction’s momentum took over and it became almost impossible to
think new thoughts on this topic. So of
course, this area of my life never changed. The notion of permanent comfort, wealth or abundance has seemed like a distant dream, no matter what short-term blessings came my way (which I have been certainly grateful for!) or what practical (or self-help) actions I took.
But it’s a
new year and a new era, and when I heard that sorry chorus this time, I forced
myself to go deeper, and finally realized that there was a larger fallacy under
the surface, possibly the real reason for my incapacitation, and it might resonate with
some of you.
The fact is that somehow I allowed
the number in front of me to define what God/the Universe/Source/the Goddess
thought I was worth.
And if God consistently thought
I was worth that, then that was all I was
worth, and this basic ballpark was all I would ever manage to have on hand,
whether I was working four jobs (which has been the case on occasion) or none. Indeed, it did not make sense to work like a dog if I was still going
to look at a checkbook regularly and find it dwindling.
I guess I’m
throwing this out there as we debate the issue of raising the minimum wage: what
we “earn” per hour (and what we see on our bank statement and/or our “net
worth”) may be a reflection of what certain people think we are worth or what
we have convinced ourselves we are worth. These figures may be a reflection of
what our financial construct thinks we are worth or is willing to pay us for
certain activities. They may be a
reflection of choices we have made, or how we have managed our money. They may be a reflection of how well or
poorly we have defined our best gifts and then figured out how to share them
with the world and have the world share its riches back to us. They may be a reflection of our having
focused on “women’s work,” the arts or volunteering, activities that are some
of life’s most important but which do not earn an hourly wage in our society. They may be a reflection of how well or poorly
we have played the “game.” They may be a
reflection of our fears, our inability to give and receive, being on the wrong
side of a changing paradigm, or any number of other factors. But
these numbers are not a reflection of what we are ultimately “worth.”
Our worth –
simply by being what Abraham-Hicks calls “the leading edge of Source energy” –
is truly incalculable. No matter what we
“earn” and no matter what the financial world might call our “net worth,” in
the eyes of God/the Universe/Source/the Goddess, we are worth-y. We are off-the-scales rich and off-the-scales
valuable to this expanding, growing Universe. All of us who have been limping along for
whatever reason are literally “buried treasure.” We need to stand up, rejoice, and celebrate
our amazingness! The bottom line may have enslaved our souls and sapped our
joy, but we have survived, and this year it is time to come out from under the
shadow of chronic fear and stand proudly!
The moment
that we can stare at that number while simultaneously feeling genuine joy and
love in our hearts, it will have lost its power to crush us. In 2016, every time I look at “the bottom
line” (whatever it may be at any moment), may I just smile and say, “gosh, good
thing God sees me differently!” May I
just smile and say, “gosh, good thing I am incredible!” May all of us who have struggled in this area
find a new inner spark of life that leads to outward relief and inspired action. We are more alive and more blessed than a mere
number. This is our moment.
