If you follow Mystic Mud on Facebook you already know that something good happened. You already know that I am feeling awesome, and positive and so optimistic I'm almost giddy. What a tease, right? I didn't mean to be, I just had to say something because sometimes it's hard not to, and really...why should we keep in that kind of joy? But going into details is maybe more than a Facebook post, so I kept it short and caused people to naturally wonder - what's the scoop!?!?!
So, there is that saying: money can't buy you happiness. We've all heard it a million times in our life, and maybe we've tried to take it to heart, or we've questioned it over and over again trying to figure out what exactly it means, because to some of us it is an oversimplification to a complex issue. Not having enough of anything sure seems to make me unhappy, including money, so how is it possible that having more money wouldn't make me happy? I've wondered that very thing time and time again. And I've felt shallow, and even greedy, for wanting more. Like if I was a good person I would just be happy with what I have.
But isn't there more to it than that? Isn't there a certain reality in this statement:
And this one, too, but most of the people I know aren't actually dreaming of a yacht - they would be happy with just a lifeboat, but kudos to Johnny for at least being honest.
But what happens when what you have isn't really enough? What happens when all you have is just enough money to get by?
I reduced...e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. We moved to a smaller house, we went semi off-grid, we sold and donated and threw away until we had the essentials pared down and a few extras...we made our life less, so that there would be less to manage, upkeep, or replace. And less really did become more. We needed less money for the smaller house, less money for bills, less for holidays and birthdays, less to organize, clean and trip over. And I'm still happier with less. But after a while - even less wasn't enough.
I've robbed my own piggy bank to buy a birthday present for a child. I still vividly remember the first time we got down to our last literal twenty dollars. I remember the fear and I remember thinking that it had taken almost an entire lifetime to hit that kind of low and that I wouldn't soon be revisiting it. But we did, several times. I've made the choice between buying food and paying a bill and I've sold things I wouldn't have otherwise sold to have the money for food and bills. Once, I even sold jewelry to a pawn shop. About the only thing I haven't done is one of those payday/title loans.
I've been desperate, on the edge and hanging by my last thread, sometimes all at the same time - and I can admit it because I know I'm not the only one. The internet is a beautiful thing and we open up and tell each other things we wouldn't normally tell the people in our everyday lives. So I know I am not alone in this, I just might be one of the few people willing to say it out loud.
My husband works hard. He works all.the.time. He works harder than I could ever dream of working. He keeps going when I think I would have given up. He works long into the night after the rest of us have watched a movie and gone to bed. He works in the cold of an un or minimally heated office to the point that when he comes home I can actually feel the cold radiate off of him. He works to the point that I've felt like a single mom. And still - he works more, so for anyone thinking maybe he should get a real job...he already has one, and he'd be hard pressed to find one that pays any better.
The thing is this: being stuck sucks. Starting over with next to nothing sucks. Picking yourself up the first time or two is one thing, but when you've lost count of how many times you've picked yourself up, dusted off and gone back for more...it starts to get old. It starts to beat you down. I've come to the conclusion that there is nothing worse in this life than hopelessness. The mountain taught me that, taught it well, and even continues to teach it. When we lose hope - we lose everything. We lose our will to fight and continue. We lose our vision of ourselves and our future. Without hope the world goes dark and pushes us into a corner to slowly wither away. It's ugly and painful. It's soul crushing. And it doesn't always feel like a choice.
David hit a goldmine. The last few months we've been trying, really trying, to get out of our hole. And we started to, twice, but it didn't last. We were too far behind, we needed more. Always with the needing more. Four days ago he came to me, again, with news of another auction that looked good. It was in a small town in Kentucky, on a Thursday, so maybe there would be less people there and less competition. I really wasn't all that impressed. I'd heard it all before. How good could it be? Maybe I had given up, or maybe I had gone numb - but what's the difference between the two? I was kind, I didn't make him ask; I just volunteered to call my dad and ask him for a loan if he wanted. I heard both the relief and the shame in his voice when he said that would be great.
I did call my dad, and we talked, and talked, and talked. And I didn't ask, and didn't ask, and didn't ask. Everything that I would be silently admitting by asking stuck in my throat. Loser. Not good enough. Stupid. Incapable. I wanted to throw up. I hate asking - for anything. The conversation wound down to the end and I thought: I can't do it. I just can't. and I imagined getting off the phone and going out to David and telling him the same thing. I just couldn't. But the window of opportunity was swifty closing and I finally just swallowed and asked. He said yes. It wasn't that I thought he would say no - it was that I didn't want to even have a need to ask.
The next day David, Einstein and Dawsy left for Kentucky before the sun was even up. A few hours later David called to check in and I could tell by the sound of his voice that it was good. Really good. We've been doing this ebay thing for 15 years now, so I can tell more by how he says it than what he says.
He cleaned up. Competition was low, as he predicted, but what he didn't know until he got there was just how cream of the crop the auction goods would be. And when I say cream of the crop I mean we've had deals like this before, but they are few and far between, and it's been seven long years since our last one. In the world of ebay - David hit a goldmine.
But wait, it gets even better. This was an estate auction, and the man that passed away still had a house and its contents to be auctioned off the next day! David and the boys still had to go back to Kentucky on Friday to get the rest of what he had bought the day before, because it was more than a van load. So they got up before the sun again on Friday and went to the auction at the house. David called with that tell-tale tone of voice again - the second day was even better than the first!
It's not so much about the money as it is about choices. About freedom. About not feeling like there is such a heavy load that you can't catch your breath. It's about standing back for a moment and (finally) being able to say - I don't have to worry about every.single.little.thing!
That septic tank that we need - not really worried about it now. Monthly bills - won't be a problem for a while. Heat for the office - put that at the top of the list!! Mothership? Oh, I think so. We can't go nuts, but we can move forward. We can make choices, and plans, and see progress...and that's what money is about. Call me shallow, but I think money just made me a little bit happier.