I was a little surprised to come home yesterday and discover that, in my absence, absolutely nothing horrible had happened. I didn't encounter any falling trees, failing appliances, or marauding mice. That's right: we've gone a whole blissful week without a single household disaster more serious than a broken coffee mug.
I did, however, receive the bill for last week's massive plumbing problem involving installation of a new water heater, which I calmly paid even though it was the kind of bill that not so long ago would have sent me into panic mode. That's right: I encountered a big ugly bill without a qualm. How can this be?
For so long--pretty much my entire life, if I'm honest--I've wished that someday I would reach the point where I wouldn't have to worry about money, but somehow I got there without even noticing. Feeling broke has been such a long-standing habit that it's hard to convince myself to let it go and live like a normal person.
It's awkward to talk about money, whether I have it or not. And I'm not claiming that I have money to burn or that I intend to give up my frugal habits, but I'm learning to enjoy how it feels to have a bit of a cushion in the bank account, to pay off some nasty old debts, to increase my annual contribution to my pension fund, and to be able to say yes to so many options that formerly would have been met with a resounding no. I bought new hiking shoes even though my old ones had not fallen totally to pieces! Donated more than the usual amount of money to a cause I care about! And paid a big ugly plumbing bill without tears! All of this would have been unthinkable just a few years ago.
I sometimes wish I could go back in time and tuck a few twenties into my past self's pocket. That time our car broke down while we were camping in North Carolina and had no cash or credit cards to cover the repair cost? I'd love to go back and relieve some of that anxiety. Or I'd go back to the little girl wearing her cousin's hand-me-downs and buy her some pants that fit, or to the young mom who found herself constantly saying no to her children's demands and give her the power to finally say yes.
But since that's not possible, I'm looking for ways to pay it forward--and not just by paying my plumbing bill promptly. I think of all the people who have helped us through rough times in the past, and I want to honor their contributions by doing some good in the world. What are some small but meaningful ways to make the world a better place? What's your most rewarding experience of paying it forward? If someone handed you $100 and told you to improve the lot of some struggling person(s), where would you put it? Tell me your stories! I can't think of a better way to celebrate finally figuring out that I don't have to live as if I'm perpetually broke.
2 comments:
This is a lovely post. I think you've joined or rejoined the fabled middle class! Congratulations!
I felt like I'd rejoined the middle class (I grew up very middle class and in some ways never left, having the family who could help if I really needed it, for example): I was walking with a friend still in grad school on a famous shopping street, and there was a store that sold art, like drawings by Renoir sort of art (amongst other things), and I wanted to go in, and she didn't feel like we were sort of allowed. And I suddenly realized, a year or two earlier, and I'd have felt that way, but at that moment, I didn't.
I've read that what many millennials really long for is a sense of that stability, especially those that grew up with it.
For me, the pay it forward: I was walking out of the grocery store the other day, and there were Girl Scouts selling cookies. And I just gave them a couple bills and said that I didn't want cookies, but just wanted to support a good organization doing good work, and wish them well. They said they used such donations to buy cookies and give them to the local food bank. Great, I said, that sounds lovely.
It was pretty simple, but I wasn't worried about just giving them money on the spur of the moment. That feels very middle class to me. (I donate more thoughtfully for larger sums, but that felt good.)
Great story about the art! Yes, the stability is what feels best, knowing that every little disaster is not the end of the world. And also buying art. Love love love buying art.
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