Feelings and finances – two topics Americans tend to avoid. I’m more comfortable with these topics than most, probably because I’m a life coach, and we can’t very well have meaningful coaching conversations about life goals without including feelings and finances.
For some time now, John and I have been practicing an exercise designed to help us be more aware of our feelings (our own, and each other’s). Feelings are very important because they influence our decisions without us even realizing it.
Step One is to notice our feelings. This is harder than in sounds! In order to help notice our feelings, John and I have taught ourselves to randomly, occasionally, ask each other what we are feeling. We don’t say, “How are you feeling?” because it’s too easy to reply, “fine” or “good”, which is meaningless. Instead we ask, “What are you feeling?”, and we expect a description of emotions in reply. It took us a long time to train ourselves to do this, but now that we have, it’s proven to be very useful.
This morning, before we had really gotten into the chores for the day, John asked me what I was feeling. I thought for a minute (because it wasn’t obvious) and I finally said, “Poorer.” Now strictly speaking, “poorer” isn’t a basic emotion like happiness, fear, etc. But it is an emotion-laden perspective. I have sometimes recently felt less wealthy than I used to feel, and I happened to have been feeling it at that moment when he asked.
Step Two is to refrain from judging the feeling. There is a tendency to immediately label all feelings, perspectives, situations, etc. as good or bad. “Poorer” sounds bad, like a complaint (and who likes a complainer?). But it may not actually be a complaint. I may actually find it to be a relief to feel poorer! Wealth, and the handling of wealth, takes a lot of time and responsibility. Sometimes John and I both just wish for a simpler life. Also the sense of being “poorer” may help me keep my Amazon purchases in check (LOL).
Step Three is to refrain from arguing the feeling away. Trying to immediately invalidate the feeling is particularly common once we’ve judged it as “bad.” We all want to be cheered up, right? So that’s one big reason to refrain from judging the feeling as good or bad. It’s not useful to immediately dismiss the feeling as a “bad” one that we “shouldn’t” feel and try to stop feeling that way.
Even once we successfully refrain from judging the feeling as good or bad, we still may want to argue that feeling away. Why? Because logically, I’m not actually poorer. John and I are both very logical people, and we have a tendency to want to correct our feelings with logic. Sometimes that correction is useful. For example, if I was, over a period of time, getting depressed because I felt “poorer”, but I was not actually poorer, then it might be very useful to use logic to argue myself out of the perspective of “poorer”.
But before I thoughtlessly try to reason myself out of the feeling, I should look at what ways the feeling could be valid or useful. Let’s start with the word “poorer”. First thing to note is that feeling “poorer” is not the same as being “poor”. Those are quite different concepts. It would be hard to take my feeling seriously without the distinction, because no, I’m not poor. But I am currently living as if I were poorer than I used to live, therefore, I do feel poorer.
Step Four is exploring what can be learned from the feeling. Rather than trying to immediately bump myself out of that illogical, potentially negative feeling, it would be more useful to look at what I can learn from it. Why do I feel poorer? Is it useful for me to feel poorer? What decisions would I make differently because I feel poorer? Would those decisions be better decisions if I didn’t feel poorer?
Let’s start with “why”. Why do I feel poorer? I believe the reason I feel poorer is because of the way John and I currently have the logistics of our living situation and financials set up. I am mostly living in a small townhome – which I like a lot and suits me well – no complaints. But it is significantly more modest than the spectacular house we had in California.
Secondly, because of the way (for convenience) that we handle money, my state income is essentially being required to pay for the Santa Fe mortgage and utilities, my clothing, food, gas, all our joint Amazon purchases, and also the remodel projects at the Santa Fe townhome. All these expenses are coming out of just my state job income, which is barely enough – or not enough – to cover all that. It feels as if I’m supporting myself and I’m not coming out ahead. It doesn’t help that my income is noticeably less than I made at Sandia, as well as being a lot less than John makes.
John’s income is mostly going to remodel costs at the Placitas house. Of course I own that house too, but I feel like it’s his house, not mine. I’ve been trying to change that perspective, but so far I’ve failed to convince my subconscious that his house is our house. For example, I’ve been trying to train myself not to call it “his” house. Despite the fact that he bought it 20 years ago, lived there for a decade before he even met me, and I’ve never actually lived there full time, and I still don’t. And, we decided not to do the big remodel plans that he and I designed together last year because it cost too much. So now he’s just getting some necessary stuff done as he can, which increases my sense that it’s just his house. He says he’s willing to sell it, and I’m sure he is. Except that’s not actually what we’re doing. What we’re actually doing is putting tens of thousands of dollars into a house that I am not committed to and don’t feel like I own.
One thing we did this weekend that should help a lot, is we created a joint list of priorities for the Placitas house. We listed everything that either one of us thinks needs done (blinds installed, cabinet handles installed, trees planted, roof sealed, new furnace, etc.). And then we each prioritized each of the items (there are over 50 items, yeah, that’s a whole other issue).
Now we’re going to take turns implementing our priorities. First we’ll do one person’s #1 priority, then we’ll do the other person’s #1 priority. Then we’ll do the first person’s #2 priority and then the second person’s #2 priority, etc. This helps us both a lot. It helps keep him from feeling like he’s working really hard doing only what I want, trying (futilely it seems) to keep me happy about that house, which puts him in a bad spot because I’m not happy about that house right now.
Alternating priorities also helps keep me from feeling like he’s just prioritizing things however he wants to. Now every-other project is my priority! It’s going to be way easier for me to feel happy about this house now that it’s easier for me to see that my priorities are being given equal treatment. And maybe they always were, but now I know they are. I feel it!
Step Five is deciding whether or not I actually want to try to change the feeling of “poorer”. The way John and I are currently compartmentalizing our finances, and our living arrangements, probably explains why I might be feeling poorer. What about the usefulness of feeling poorer? Do I actually want to try to change that feeling?
I’ve noticed that when large amounts of money are coming in (and going out), I start feeling comfortable with large amounts of money moving around. Now that I’m working on a daily basis with a smaller amount going in and going out (the Santa Fe portion), smaller amounts of money seem like “a lot.” Is $300 a lot of money? Yes. But is it really, really a lot of money? What about $3,000? If I’m in middle of negotiating the purchase or sale of a house, I’m not going to worry about $3,000. But if I just spent $3,000 on a brick patio for the Santa Fe backyard, how am I going to pay my Santa Fe mortgage that month? Suddenly $3,000 is a budget-destroying amount. It’s all rather relative.
Is it useful for me to start thinking that $300 (or $3,000) is “a lot”, imagining that it is a bigger sum than I used to imagine it is? Possibly. The shift in perspective may help me not spend frivolously on yet another pair of shoes. But if I get too tightwad, then I’m going to resent John’s trip to Africa (for example).
So is it useful for me to feel poorer? In general it’s useful to be realistic or even a little bit pessimistic about finances in order to not overspend on consumer items. It also could be useful to encourage me to think about ways to increase income (I could coach more clients, I could get a roommate, I could rent the Santa Fe house and commute instead, I could get a job that paid more at LANL or Sandia, etc.)
Another way the feeling of “poorer” could be useful is to help illuminate and fix inequalities in the way John and I are currently handling our time and money. For example, the remodel prioritization exercise we just did will help a lot. But what about sending the kids some money for their education? Should that really come out of my state salary? Are we sure about that? It’s something to consider.
Step Six is changing the feeling. Once I’ve explored the potential usefulness of a feeling, and decided that I want to change it – how do I? There’s several ways to approach changing a feeling. I could repeatedly remind myself that the feeling is inaccurate (reassure myself that I’m not actually poorer). This would need to be done myself (not coming from others or pushed onto me by others), in a supportive and non-critical manner, using concepts that I genuinely believe (rote and empty affirmations don’t work).
Or I could work on changing the situations in my life that are making me feel poorer. For example, you may be wondering why we don’t just lump all our money together, and we probably should. But having our finances somewhat separate is probably helping me tolerate the huge amount that’s being spent on the house in Placitas, because I don’t really see it as my money.
For example, when we had the leak last Saturday, I called our new handyman. John called a professional plumbing company. The professional plumbing company beat the handyman out there by two hours. And they cost us several hundred dollars more than the handyman would have cost. Oh well, it’s his house and his money. Or is it?
And then there’s the issue of which bank. LOL, there’s always a funny side to these things. Putting all our money together would require agreeing on a bank. John is very loyal to his company’s credit union, but I’m not impressed with their lack of online and mobile capabilities. They’re in the stone ages. And their security system is draconian. They once reduced me to tears after I endured standing out in the freezing cold, arguing with them over the phone for an entire hour when I was trying to buy a gift in Albuquerque Old Town at Christmas time, and I’m just not ever giving them my business again.
Except I’m the one who makes sure the bills are paid (including the ones paid by his account) so I have to deal with his bank on a regular basis anyway. It’s pretty funny when you think about it. Two stubbornly independent people with separate bank accounts purely because we can’t agree on which bank. Like, just pick one already!
John is a fair and generous person, and I’m confident we’ll work these things out. But we wouldn’t necessarily have thought about and talked about potential inequalities in our current situation if I hadn’t noticed and expressed that I was feeling poorer.
Because I realized I was feeling poorer, we’ve been able to take concrete steps to help me feel like the Placitas house is mine too. And because we’re aware that I’m feeling poorer, we can continue to take proactive steps to make sure that we are making joint decisions about how we spend our money. And maybe a certain amount of feeling poorer is good for me!
Another interesting thing is, John accurately predicted some of this. When I was first looking for a house in Santa Fe, I was looking at more expensive houses equivalent to our house in Placitas. But then I decided to buy a small townhome for much less money. John was concerned that I wouldn’t be happy with it in the long run. I really like the townhome, and am relieved that I didn’t take on a bigger mortgage. I don’t have any regrets at all. But he was right. I do feel poorer because of it.
You see how useful and interesting emotions can be – even negative and illogical ones – if you take the time to think about them.
So now why do I feel like I just wanna buy another pair of shoes?!?