When I hear people say I can’t afford it and I don’t have the $, my first thought is: I don’t want to go back to THAT.
I don’t remember using those statements when I had little income, but $ was always on my mind. Looking at a timeline of my life, I’d say that for only about 1/3 of my adulthood have I not worried about $. Gosh, that sounds sad—all the time, energy, sleepless nights, domestic arguments.
In moving home, the challenge is not going to be less income and less $ to spend—it’ll be not getting overwhelmed by those troubled thoughts about $. Again. The plan is a voluntary return to the joys, not anxiety, of simpler living after all.
I know how fortunate I am to be in a position now to question my beliefs about work and retirement and to try something different (I don’t have financial dependents to consider other than the cats and they voted for less work/more naps).
Lately, this language of $ sounds similar to me to the language of time: can’t afford the time, don’t have the time, spent time … I’m stretched thin. The glorification of busy is not a sign of wealth to me (I’m double-booked on Saturday!), but of deprivation.
This language makes me sound powerless. Actually, chances are I CAN afford the time and $, I just choose to use those resources for something else. Last night, I corrected myself after saying I wasted a lot of time. If I’m not careful with my speech, I might convince myself, let alone others, that I am passively reacting to life rather than making very deliberate choices about how I spend all my time and $.