If I don't love it, I'll get rid of it

When I moved into this house I promised myself that the only things that I would ever let "live" in my bedroom were things that I loved. You see, I'm notorious for scavenging any old thing because it might some day become useful. It's a relic from my Scottish mother who was born near the Great Depression.

The one voice that I have to extract from my mental coding is my mother's voice (and actions and insistence) that constantly reminds me: I might need it some day.

That's the voice of a pack rat, of a hoarder, of one who is so afraid of scarcity that instead they have too much. Unfortunately, it's too much of nothing!!!! Of nothing that means anything. It's all junk.

I had a room that I called my Dorian Gray room. It was the room into which I stuffed all those things that someday I might use. I just shut the door and forgot about it. But it sat there and in darkness reflected my scarcity mentality. Yes, it was all shut up away, but it determined my daily life.

Then my son moved in and I had to move all that stuff. Guess where it ended up? Most of it is in my bedroom...the one room I wanted so much to be sacrosanct against the scarcity mentality that lives deep within my cells.

I have complained about being forced to take off the time between Christmas and New Years. It terrifies me. Yes. Terrifies me. Because I know the part deep inside me that wants to rid myself of this scarcity thinking will hound me to get rid of things...things that I think I will some day need! Aieeee!

There's more to being forced to take this time off, but I knew this whole scarcity thing would raise its head.

So now I'm up in my room with a broom sweeping EVERYTHING that isn't a bed and dresser into the middle of the floor.



And here's what I'm going to do. My promise.

If I don't love it I will get rid of it.

How's that? My house is too small to store anything that I don't love. My life is too precious to be occupied with things that I don't love. This is incredibly frightening because eventually it will extend to the bathroom, the living room, the kitchen, and (gulp) to the world outside.

There's no room for that which you do not love.

A Change in Track

I was derailed. The previous blog made me realize how ludicrous it is for me to expect to eradicate $8000 in one year on my wages. It felt plausible when I was captured by the idea, but when I set it to reality, it fell apart.

In the two weeks since I've blogged, I reappraised my goal. I am still riding some kind of train that won't let me disembark. It keeps rumbling forward, passing stop after stop but not stopping to let me off. And so I rumble along with it, falling into a soothing rhythm that encourages soothing meditation.



I believe the $8000 was the ticket onto this train. I thought the train was headed to Debt-Free station but sometimes what you think something is and what it really is are two different things. I am no longer trying to eradicate the $8000 debt.

My new goal is to live a sustained life in a way that is rich and full without spending money. I hope no one's disappointed that I'm not going to blog about how to save money to get out of debt. Instead I am going to blog about self-reliance in an urban environment...things to do that don't cost money (so it isn't added to any debt).

And I suppose I'll end up green. I'm already on my way....

It Can Be Done!!!

I did the number crunching. I can actually pay off my credit card debt in one year!!! On my wages! Without getting a second job!!! But there will be sacrifices. There always are. It's give-and-take when money is involved.

Here's how I pay off the card:

I sell my car, drop my insurance, and take Indianapolis Public Transportation. This alone will save me nearly $5000 that I can throw at the card. I can once again ride the bus, fending off toothless men who want to fix me a romantic candlelight dinner in a park (because they don't have a home).

I can listen to the erudite rantings of philosophical drunks who point their dirty nails in my face and call me a perpetrator (because I'm female and most assuredly will make him spend all his money just to keep me).

I can hold my nose and watch with amusement as people shift from the front of the bus to the back of the bus as a man wanders up and down the aisle slurring his words as he says, "I didn't do it. It's not me. I didn't shit my pants." And it's never a dull moment when the bus pulls over, a cadre of big, hulking men get off and hang around until the bus is surrounded by police. The cadre of big, hulking, men turn over another man who is then searched, handcuffed, and hauled off. And I always look forward to bus drivers bending over to help the handicapped, their shirts pulling out of their pants, which have slid halfway down their butts...and...what's that? No underwear? Why did you have to bend over in MY face? And then there's grocery shopping. On Saturdays. With the crazies. Yes. I can sell my car and take public transportation.

I would have to get rid of my phone. No phone. Period. My kids would have to find another provider. But that would save me $1600 (yes, I have a Blackberry so there's a substantial savings in dropping the phone).

Bye bye Bright House. No cable. No TV (oh, wait, I don't have a TV). No internet. Well. That really shouldn't be a problem. I used to not have internet. Back in the days. When I walked two miles to school. Uphill. In the snow. Both ways! Ah, those were the days. (You kids don't know what hardship is!) This saves me $480.

No entertainment extras (going out with friends...not a problem, I won't have a car). No heat during the winter or air-conditioning during the summer. (Not a problem, I know how to rig a bed at work.)

And my grocery budget (for two) would have to be set at $100/week. That includes food, cleaning supplies, toiletries, OTC medicines, laundry (but if someone can come pick me up and let me use their washer/dryer, then I can save there also!).

Last, but not least, no emergencies. They just don't fit into my budget.


So. Yes. I can pay off that credit card debt in a year.

(to be continued)

Three Thirty-Four

I wake up at 3:34am according to the digital output on my clock. In the distance the train rumbles, blaring its horn, still too far away to be the cause of waking me up. Three thirty-four is normal, though. But sometimes I roll over and fall back asleep. Sometimes I don't. I didn't.

The train continues to rumble, pulsing as it presses forward, unconcerned, steady. The horn blares as it passes through neighborhoods too small to warrant arms that slowly descend to keep cars from racing over the tracks; neighborhoods that only have the blinking lights and blare of the horn to warn them. Caution! Stop!

The relentless pulsing of the oncoming train slides into rhythm with a growing dread within me.

At three thirty-four in the morning defenses are down, the nebulous betwixt-and-between shadows obscure the rationale of a more revealed daylight. At three thirty-four this morning I become one with the train.

The rumble. The pulse. The blare. It moves relentlessly towards me, building pressure, condensing time/space.

I have a dream, a goal. One so compelling that I, Dezra, possessively private and highly wary, am willing to blog about it; blogging with very little privacy mechanisms in place--so unlike me. I am opening up a very private aspect of myself to public scrutiny.

The train approaches. I shift in bed. The panic I've learned to control rumbles in rhythm to the turning of the wheels. Time/space pressure continues to build.

Have I thought through this goal? Have I truly considered the ramifications? (rumble) Is it possible to eradicate an $8,000 debt in one year? On my wages? (rumble rumble) What would that mean? What lifestyle changes would I make? (rumble rumble rumble) What will I lose? What will I gain? Can I DO it? (rumble rumble rumble rumble)

The pulse rises. The train--relentless. I falter. I'm crazy! Crazy! $8,000! Really? The horn blares out a warning cry! It's at Audubon, my cross street! I hear it. Loud. It's warning me. Warning! It's saying, "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

Caution! Stop! At three thirty-four!

The pressure peaks, then the loco-motion rips through the silent connection between me and the other side of the tracks. It cuts through me. Its wheels, steel on steel, slice by.

And then it's gone, the distant rumble leaves me afraid, pensive. Can I really do this? At three thirty-four the air clears. But the doubts....

Spoils

When I divorced, I left a 26 year marriage. On the whole, it was a wonderful marriage. But people change; I changed; and shared values twisted and turned away from themselves until it became apparent that what we had at the beginning of the marriage was not what we had at the end. So we divorced.

There wasn't much to divide. I left with only:

a chair


an end table


a piano

and a huge credit card debt. I know it's not proper to throw dollar amounts out into the public eye, but I will anyway. The debt was:


Sigh.

I've been living with that for two years, trying to pay it down but hardly getting anywhere with it.

My goal, beginning November 1, is to eradicate that debt. It will be a difficult, fun, exciting, frustrating, and, hopefully overall, a year that I will never forget.

But we'll see.

Beginnings

I am afraid that if I don't just start, I will wait and wait and wait until the "perfect" moment presents itself. Perfect moments, in my world, rarely present themselves, however, so if I wait, I may never start. Then the drive within me will dissipate and this whole adventure I'm embarking on will become a relic alongside other discarded adventures.

I don't even know how to continue. Do I spill out right now what it is I'm about to do? Do I wait until I know more about what it is I'm about to do? Do I employ the cheap trick of suspense and hold off for two or three blog posts before revealing what I'm about to do?

On the one hand, I don't fully know what I plan on doing...still in the beginning stages. On the other hand, so many ideas flood my head that I think I'm far beyond the planning stage and into the implementation stage.

So I'm starting. I'm committing myself. Right now. Even though the adventure won't start until November 1.

So what is the adventure? I plan on paying off a major credit card in the course of a year. The adventure is the way I plan to do it.

Baby Steps

Baby steps. That's what they are. Baby steps. Little by little. Even the words I write. Short.

Even this blog. Short.

Then, soon enough, it will grow.