Money and the Power of Fear

"There's not enough" the rational, "in control" Constance says to me.
"I don't want to hear it.  That's fear talking.  Spirit provides in abundance."
"Oh sure...like that time..."
"Stop it!  Get a grip."
The cash register rings and the clerk speaks the total.
Constance gasps.
"Stop it!  It's going to be ok.  Really it will.  We'll find a way."
"You already owe so much.  We don't have any living room furniture and you're sleeping on an air mattress for God's sake."
"Maybe it IS for God's sake!  And besides, that air mattress is quite comfortable.  And I've kept this stuff to a minimum.  You begrudge me some pillows and glasses and silverware?  C'mon."
"Starting all over at your age Connie, really!"
"What of it?  Lots of older people start over.  Let's make a stop at the Y and see what a membership costs."
"You won't use it.  You'll spend the money and it will just be a waste."
"Now just wait a minute.  Remember all the times I HAVE used my memberships?  All that swimming I used to do."
     Constance just hrumphs ungraciously.  She is rather difficult this overly responsible, purse lipped, penny pinching, disapproving but dear person who wants to meet her obligations.  I do listen to her.   I write down what I spend.  I keep track of it all.  But to be honest, I know how to deal with her.  It's the fearful one I don't have name for.  She would never think herself worthy of ANYTHING at all...just chicken backs, or bread and water.  I don't think even St. Francis himself or Mother Teresa could rival her in the department of deprivation and sacrifice.  Of course. all of that emerges out of the bog that is the past. 
     Does it sound familiar in any way shape or form?  Money worries can escalate into abject terror for me these days.  I'm on a tight budget.  I have such a desire to create a beautiful home.  But even garage sales cost money that I don't have at present. 
     It's going to be ok.  Even sleeping on an air mattress for months.  Even if the only plants on the patio are ones in my imagination.  Even though the squeaky card table and chair here in my room wiggle every time I move.  Even though my piano was bought completely on credit.  There will be a way through.  I've got some ideas for earning some extra money.  I've got some hope in my pocket...so it's not completely empty. 
     How does that old song go that I used to sing at nursing homes? 
     "Hey Look me over, lend me an ear, Fresh out of clover and mortgaged up to here.
      Don't pass the plate folks, don't pass the cup.
      I figure whenever you're down and out, the only way is up
      And I'll be up like a rosebud, high on the vine,
      Don't thumb your nose bud, take a tip from mine,
      I'm a little bit short of the elbow room, so let me get me some,
      And look out world here I come!
               Cy Coleman and Carolyn Leigh from the 1960 musical Wildcat

So I take a good, inspiring look at the foothills out the window and dream about how I can find the money for a small business start up costs.  Uh oh...Constance is starting another lecture.  I'd better go.

Have a blessed day!