The biggest financial mistake my wife and I ever made was worrying about what people like us were supposed to do. If we had simply focused instead on what made us happy, we would have found ourselves in a much better financial place all the way along. ~ The Simple Dollar

In life, we don’t always learn our lessons early enough. There is no accelerated course in life, we all just have to muddle our way though; tripping and falling along the way but hopefully getting to our destination a little bit wiser and stronger.

Haven’t we all given something up that we totally love just because we thought it didn’t fit the way things are “supposed” to be? This post is not only talking about a financial philosophy, it is also about our philosophy about life in general.

Some of us take more stumbles than others before we learn our lessons; before we come to the realization that ultimately, we only have ourselves to please. In the end, when all is said and done, we find that we are alone in our happiness. Happiness is something that no one can give us, it is something that we have inside us that only we can bring forth.

It is within us all to be happy. We can choose to be happy or unhappy. So how do we bring forth happiness? We draw out happiness by how we perceive life… the people and things around us.

The green chair, for instance. It’s old, it’s worn, fading, thinning and unraveling in some places. But it gives you comfort. It’s your favorite place to be. It relaxes you, it makes you happy.

But it’s old… it’s faded… it has holes. We should replace it. We can afford it. It’s the right thing to do.

Who says it’s the right thing to do? Why can’t we hold on to it if it makes us happy? Who rules what is in our home anyway? You or other’s opinion?

In my youth, I probably would have thrown out that green chair. I probably would have bought something new and shiny and fashionable; and my friends would have been suitably impressed when they came to my home. It probably would have made me happy for a while.

But in my old age, I know now that such happiness is fleeting. I will soon miss the cushiness of that old chair whenever I try to snuggle down into my new and fashionable chair. In my old age, if I had a green chair, I will know better and will keep it to please me. I will give it a softer, cushier cover, maybe mend its holes and renew its stuffing. I would keep it because it give me joy. I would keep it because it makes me happy.

Perception. It’s all in how you look at things. That old cliche’ about the glass being half empty or half full holds a lot of truth to it. You can let devastating news bring you down or you can learn from it and find something to ease a little happiness out. I’m not saying to never be sad or grieve; we all need that too. What I’m saying is, hapiness is within reach and we can hold on to it.

And that green chair, it’s like the people in our lives. Don’t give up easily on the people you love just because it’s the thing to do. Sometimes you have to listen to your heart and bring forth what makes you happy.

I too have unsung lullabies inside me but I doubt that I will ever overcome the shame to be able to candidly talk about it. It’s not that I have no regrets… it’s just not how I’m wired. It happened, and that’s that.

But often I will look at my daughters and marvel at how beautiful they are. How absolutely gifted young ladies they are. How amazing they are as human beings…

And I thank my lucky stars and look to the skies to offer my gratitude for at one time I thought I would never be redeemed.

And I hold on a little tighter to that song that remains trapped in my heart, forever unsung. Maybe there will be a day when it will finally be heard but in the meantime it must be silenced in shame.

Dear Sad and Insecure on Facebook,

I don’t know you beyond the name and profile you put up on facebook and I don’t mean to judge you or call you out. It’s just that ever since I found out about you, my perverse curiosity has been piqued to the point that I look forward to your occasional and pathetic post on facebook.

No, we’re not friends on facebook so you don’t come up on my feed. I have actually gone to the extent of searching your name just so I can have my nefarious need to feel superior satisfied. I give a little snicker when you talk about how beautiful your wife is and how grateful you are to have married her. My eyes roll when you dedicate love songs to the goddess that she is. When you thank her for being mother to your brilliant children and thank your lucky stars for delivering her to you when you needed her the most, I feel incredulous sadness.

It sounds so totally horrible and petty of me to think of you this way and I do feel terribly guilty. But it is like watching a train wreck, you know? I want to turn away but I can’t. That detestable gossip in me can’t turn away as I check every so often what new status update you’ve come up with. You know, that ones that no one comments on because they are probably too embarassed to or too confused. Assuming of course that you do have friends on facebook. Like I said, we’re not friends so I can’t see how many you’ve got.

I wonder which one of us is more sad and insecure? You who created an account in your husband’s name then proceed to extol your own virtues, or I who actually takes the time to search you out just so I have my wicked pleasure for the day? It is really pathetic, don’t you think? No, not you… me!

I mean, yes, part of me feels sorry that there are people like you out there, sad and needing attention. But even more pitiful are the wretched people like me who converge on disasters and cannot turn away. We clog up the highways during accidents, we make a nuisance of ourselves standing around rubber necking. We couldn’t even be bothered to move out of the way so the ambulance can get to you.

So which one of us is more pitiful? And who is more sad and more insecure? You tell me.

Your stalker friend,
Morbid and Perverse

There was a time when many of us had never heard of blogs. We had no idea what blogging was all about. But through word-of-mouth or however we happened to stumble on to blogging, many of us found something satisfying and rewarding about getting our thoughts down and publishing it out there for all to see. Blogging gave people who only dreamed of getting published a venue where random strangers can run across their creation and maybe pause long enough to read a paragraph or two. That is all what most of us could hope for.

Some of us secretly hoped no one would ever come across our writing and peek into our souls. But at the same time, we all had that small niggle within where we hoped someone would notice and actually validate that maybe our writing is worth reading after all. Then a comment or two started filtering in and we were like teenagers whose crush is reading their slam book. Butterflies flutter in our belly as we wonder, ‘Does he get it?” “Does he see the real me now?” “Does he like what he sees?” And we write more, we bare more of ourselves, hoping they will come back and maybe even learn to love us. Blogging is addicting like that.

Then the blogging explosion happened. We heard of bloggers who are now earning lots of money. Some bloggers have turned pro, where this became their full time jobs. We heard of bloggers who gained fame and are now hobnobbing with the rich and famous. We heard of bloggers who became ‘real’ authors because of their blog. We see them now on the book circuits talking about their success from blogging to books. At least one that I know of had their blog made into a movie.

Fame and fortune from blogging. Who can resist? I admit, I have blogging envy. I want to make lots of money too! I want to be famous. I want Oprah to invite me to her show and talk about what a terrific blogger I am. I want to walk the red carpet at least once.

I am not alone in my envy. There are, apparently a lot of us out there. The difference is, I am still where I am when I started. Largely blogging for myself, churning out my own convoluted content and still welcoming every compliment that comes in the comments and still crying over mean criticisms then deleting them. Yeah, that’s still me. I haven’t gone out of my way to reach for more than just having the venue to spout off about me. So no, I’m not rich from blogging yet nor am I famous.

What I am rich in though, and famous with, are the friends that I have made from blogging. I made some good friends that I have never met through blogging. And for anyone who claims that friendships made on the blogosphere are shallow, superficial and will never amount to nothing, they are wrong. The people that I have made friends with are precious and they are as loyal and as loving as the friends we have outside of cyberspace. These friends will be there when you need them… whether it’s a shoulder to cry on or a posse to watch your back, they are there for you. So I guess, you can say, yeah, I’ve got it made as a blogger. I have riches and facebook fame. What more could I ask for, right?

This is just me again, talking to myself. Hope you enjoyed eavesdropping.