Euuw!! I know, that is such a gross visual. I
fear my earlier post was just as gross perhaps. I have been picking at myself
about it all day. I still think it is the truth today (which is reason
enough to stand by the post and leave it up). BUT as I ponder it and try
to think what it might be like to read, I am a little itchy about it. I
mean, what kind of person says they don't care about money? What kind of
person who has time to think and write about not thinking about money has any
right to think or write about such a topic?
I am quite sure that I have revealed my true nature as a spoiled, pampered, immature housewife. I am quite sure that I am able to be so lofty because someone else has met my basic needs all my life and even when I was poor I never felt poor because I knew that someone else would always catch me if I really fell flat (I fell fat).
SO, even though every word I wrote today feels true today; I am not proud of it. So, why do I shout it from the blog tops? I don’t know. I don't feel any urgency to change my perspective. So I must not be too ashamed of it, even though I spent some minutes today worrying about the anvil I had invited to fall on my head to teach me a lesson about REAL poverty and struggle and to test just how much writing and singing I would be doing from underneath said anvil. (Though I still maintain that I would be singing and writing even more, it helps me get out from under the various anvils I invite upon myself time and time again).
So if you are Suzie Orman or some other priest in service of the almighty dollar, please forgive me, I owe not what I due.