What’s the Cost of Happiness?

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I received an Athleta catalog in the mail a few days ago. After barely making through a day at school while sick, I drew myself a warm bath and made a mug of hot tea as soon as I walked into the house. I settled into the soothing tub and began to flip through the catalog of quality active wear. Without even realizing it, I began to dogear corners and picture myself in many of the new fall fashions. I escaped into the fantasy provided by the catalog, seeing myself smiling and relaxed like the women in the photos rather than tired and wheezy and pale like I was in reality.

Luckily, I am not an impulse buyer. A quick tally of the total was enough for me to set the catalog aside.

But still, I felt a longing. A need that wasn’t there hours before. I checked my email before heading to bed and I found messages from my two favorite clothing stores at a nearby outlet mall. Each store was running a 50% off everything sale and included an additional 20% off coupon in the email. I weighed my options. I haven’t bought much in the way of clothing lately. I have enough clothes for work but some are starting to show signs of wear and others have never fit right again since the divorce. I would like to freshen up the wardrobe. But, if I’m honest with myself, it isn’t really needed.

I closed the emails.

I could take $200 or so and buy a few key pieces from Athleta that would probably become my go-to items for several years. Or, I could take that same money and walk away with several bulging bags from the outlet mall that would update my work wardrobe for many years. But would either of those purchases bring me any happiness?

Temporarily, sure.

I would enjoy the hunt for a bargain at the mall or the perusal of the perfect pictures in the catalog. I would revel in the look and feel of new fabric that is sized to fit my post-divorce frame. But soon, they would simply become heaps of cotton and spandex in the hamper. Something else to fold or hang. Another item who fails to impress after an all-to-brief honeymoon period.

I’ve learned that when I feel that longing for something new it is because I feel some void in my life at the moment. Right now, that void is because I cannot be as active as I wish while my lungs are healing. I feel stuck and frustrated. Some part of me seems to think that covering my body with new clothing will make it feel better inside. I know that is a fallacy. But, damn, it sure is a persistent one.

Instead of spending that money on clothing that would bring a temporary smile, I would rather spend it on a plane ticket to visit freinds or family. Or a couple of nights in a cabin in the mountains with loved ones. If I spend the money on an experience, I may not be left with anything more tangible than pictures, but the joy in the memories will last far beyond the trip itself.

I know for sure what I do not want. I don’t want to lose the money in dribs and drabs, small mindless purchases that barely cause a ripple in my consciousness. It’s all too easy for money to flow out without us demanding anything in return.

I still feel the pull of the stores even though I know they won’t make my coughing go away or bring back my strength. While I wait to heal, I will instead spend time dreaming of upcoming trips. Even if I have to wear pants that don’t quite fit:)

Happiness isn’t found in money, but how we choose to allocate it can pay out large dividends if we make mindful choices.

When do you feel a pull to spend money? Do you give in or fight the urge? How do you choose to spend money to maximize your happiness return?

Perfection in a Chipped Plate

Posted on by stilllearning2b
Image from growingyoungereachday

In my old house, I strove for perfection.  My ex and I were constantly laying tile, painting walls, building furniture, and then repainting walls. We looked for furniture, dishware, and accessories that would give a Pottery Barn look on a Target budget. I once spent over 30 hours looking for just the right throw pillows for the couch after we repainted the living room. We both had a similar level of neatness, so the carefully selected objects in the carefully crafted house were not obscured by clutter. Perfection always seemed attainable, although slightly out of reach.

In my new home, perfection is laughable. My boyfriend’s talents do not extend to homemaking; in fact, as far as the house is concerned, I feel like I live with a scattered 16 year old boy. Our furnishings are a compilation of his twenty years of bachelorhood and my on-a-very-tight-budget IKEA run to furnish the apartment I was in for year 2 of my new life. The cupboards are filled with an odd assortment of dishes and glasses, many of them chipped from being carelessly loaded into the dishwasher. The couch, a remnant of bachelorhood, is stained from spilled drinks and muddy paws. It is topped with throw pillows that don’t match much of anything. Even the house itself is a rental, so we have done the bare minimum to improve its aesthetics.

Sometimes, when I visit other people’s homes and I see their perfect serving dishes and their matched accessories, I feel inadequate. I think about hitting the stores and upgrading some of our things. But then I realize that I don’t want to travel that road again. I don’t want to feel the pressure to create a perfect home. In my old life, I took pride in my surroundings, yet I was also a slave to them. I like living in a home where I do not have to be worried about a spill on the rug or a chip in the wood. I like not being owned by my home.

So, if you ever make it over for dinner, I can promise you a mean Mexican lasagna on a chipped IKEA plate, plenty of wine (although it may not be served in a wine glass), and lots of laughter and good company (oh, and pit bull kisses too). That’s my idea of perfection.

Gear Check

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I had some shopping to do yesterday.  I had credits and coupons for Sports Authority and REI and I intended to put them to good use in preparation of upcoming adventures.

The sporting goods store was the first on my list.  I have signed up for my first marathon in November and I had two items in mind to help me prepare.  First, I needed a new pair of shoes.  I have been loyal to Mizuno Waveriders since I first started running almost 5 years ago (yiks!  has it really been so long?).  I usually stock up on the retiring model through online retailers as they are clearing inventory to make room for the newest model.  I have never had trouble with this strategy until now.  Apparently, they redesigned the toebox (or my toes have grown?) because the shoes now cause my toes and forefeet to go numb on long runs regardless of the lacing.  Obviously, that is a serious liability in a pair of shoes that will have have to make it 26.2 miles (which BTW is about 4 times the distance of the height of an average airliner).  Now, I know I have waxed poetically about my Vibrams, but they are just a too minimal for that much use.  I found a happy medium between the two: Saucony Kinvara.  It was love at first step.  I’ve done about 10 miles in them already and I love the combination of squish and weightless flexibility.  Can you tell which shoes are the new ones?

evolution of the shoe

I also needed to pick up a new running shirt.  I have a thin compression heatware Underarmor shirt that has seen me though all of my warm weather races.  I love that shirt; it has served me well.  Its light grey fabric is stained from the Georgia red clay that coats me in adventure races (I call that orange sheen my “red badge of courage”) and has holes all along the front from the pins that affix my race numbers.  Brightroom Photography can probably recognize me by that shirt alone.  The shirt has one shortcoming for this race; however, it is too short and rides above my water belt.  This is also the case with all my other warm weather shirts.  As a result, when I need to carry water in the summer, I tend to end up with a permanent abrasion around my hips from the rubbing of the belt.  Not really the best look for bikini season.  So, I picked up an ultralight tank that is long enough to stay under the belt.  Now if I could just figure out a way to carry water that doesn’t make me feel like I’m waddling with saline implants on my hips…

 

After an afternoon run (come on now, you didn’t think I would be patient to check out the new gear, did you?), I proceeded on to REI to see what I could find for my Italy trip.  Yeah, that’s right.  The trip scheduled for summer 2013.  What? Too soon?  I told you I was a planner.  Besides, my mom was starting to get a head start on acquiring needed items for the trip and I can’t let that happen now, can I?  I do have a semi-reasonable justification if it will make you feel better:  I can test the items in the heat of this summer to make sure that they are worthy of a transcontinental journey.  There, better now?

So, I decided to get this perfect travel skirt.  It’s long enough to meet Italy’s modesty requirements (especially needed with all of the museums and cathedrals I know we will be visiting), yet is made of high tech fabric that will dry quickly.

I also fell in love with a pair of Jambu shoes that seemed perfect for navigating the uneven walkways of Italy, but couldn’t stomach the $100 price tag.  Which leads to the final leg of the shopping trip…

When I got back home, I logged on to Sierra Trading Post and promptly located the same shoes for $40 after a variety of discounts.  I also tossed in a pair of shorts, another skirt, and two tops. All this begs the question:

Is it too early to pack?

 

 

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Worth the Price

Posted on by stilllearning2b

At heart, I am a frugal person.  In my old life, I bordered on ascetic in many areas.  I routinely denied myself pleasure for perceived future happiness.  That imagined future never happened and those carefully saved pennies were stolen from me.  I have learned the value of indulgence.  The following are things that I have found are worth the price for me.

Note: This is a deeply personal list.  I am not making judgements against those who find pleasures in areas where I do not.  We all have to find what contributes to our own happiness.

A photo of a cup of coffee. Esperanto: Taso de...

Coffee:  Most of my coffee is consumed at home on the cheap, but I do not hesitate to enjoy a good cup once a week or so at a coffee shop.  The $4 is more than worth it for the atmosphere and service.  I developed this habit the year that I lived with my friend who has a baby.  I grew to relish those moments in a coffee shop, by myself but alone.  I still find them to be almost magical places where I can get away and connect with those around me all at the same time.

Botanical Garden Membership: This has been $60 very well spent.  I find peace and restoration in the gardens and with a membership already paid for, I do not hesitate to visit on a frequent basis.  In my old life, I used to have a garden.  In my new life, I pay to visit a communal one.

Massage: Massage serves two functions for me; it is therapy for my aching muscles and ligaments from all the abuse I put them through and it calming and relaxing as I surrender to touch.  In the early months of the divorce, I committed myself to monthly massages to help me heal and to sooth my anxiety.  Now, I use them more for myofascial release to help with my running.  Either way, it is money well spent.

Running Shoes:  I only made the mistake once of buying cheap running shoes.  I paid for it for months with plantar fasciitis.  Now, I purchase new shoes (I am a Mizuno Waverider fan) every 400-500 miles.  I still look for a bargain, though; I buy a couple pairs at once of the old style when the new one is released.

Lip Gloss: I am addicted.  I have tubes in every room of the house, in my desk at work, in every backpack and running pack, and multiples in my purse.  I splurge on two types: Burt’s Bees and Bath and Body Works.  I usually buy the latter once a year.  It always feels a bit silly walking out of the store with $30 in lip balm.  But I love it:)

Housecleaner: This has been a big splurge for me.  In my old life, I never had one, nor did I have the need for one.  My ex and I were very compatible when it came to living together and the care of a home.  We literally never had to have a discussion about who would do what chore; it just happened.  Things are a bit different in my new life.  My boyfriend is awesome, but not always the best at keeping up with the house.  In order to save the relationship, we decided it would be best to have some help in the cleaning department.  I don’t like spending the money, but it is worthwhile so that I do not feel overwhelmed keeping up with all of it.

Produce: I like to eat as healthy as possible.  I get frustrated when the weekly coupons are never for broccoli, but I buy it anyway.  I often will spend as much at the farmer’s market as I do at the grocery.  I try to shop seasonally and use sales whenever possible, but I refuse to avoid the produce section even though the chips are cheaper.

Produce

Yoga Classes and Gym Memberships:  In my old life, we had a home gym because it was cheaper to outfit the house with equipment once than to pay for two gym memberships for any length of time.  It worked fine, but I have grown to love the options and social side of the gym.  I now have a small home gym (kettlebells, heavy bag, pull-up bar), but mainly use the commercial facility.  I even went through a period last year where I had two gym memberships: one near work and one near home.  It felt so indulgent!  I have paired it down to a single gym, but I also buy classes at a separate yoga studio.  I never feel like this is a wasted expense.

Occasional Gluten Free Pastries: I don’t eat sweets much, but when I do, I am happy to pay $4 for a gluten free cupcake.  I think the price helps to mark it as something special.  Something to be enjoyed only on an occasional basis.

Gas or Plane Tickets to an Adventure or to See Family:  This is one I have really embraced in my new life.  My single biggest expense last year outside of basic living expenses was airfare.  I mainly focused on family last year, and it was worth every penny.

Deutsch: Meer

There are many areas where I have not noticed a correlation between price and happiness.  For these things, I refuse to spend much money.  Things I get on the cheap:

Books:  I love to read.  I always have.  On childhood road trips, my parents would map the route by used book stores so that I could replenish my stocks.  Now, I get the majority of my material free through the library or on my Kindle.  I only pay for books that the library does not carry and that are truly worth it.

Books Books

Music: My favorite way to obtain cheap (and legal!) music is through Amazon.  I buy used CDs for $.99 plus $2.98 shipping and handling.  I can handle $3 for an entire album’s worth of music.

Clothes: I try to find a balance between quality (read lifespan) and price.  I usually go the the outlet mall once or twice a year, armed with coupons, and purchase any needed work clothing.  My workout gear mainly comes from Marshall’s, where it is a fraction of the cost of a sporting goods store, yet I can still get the function I need (cotton?  no thanks!). I prefer consignment shops for my casual clothing, as I can get cute stuff for a few bucks a piece.  In reality, much of my clothing is old, but by staying the same size and buying basic pieces, I can still wear it.

Haircuts:  I have never been one to appreciate the difference between a “quality” haircut and a budget friendly one, and I worked at a fancy salon for several months.  It’s Great Clips all the way for me!

Pedicures:  Others swear by these.  So, last year, at the suggestion of a friend, I gave one a try.  It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t worth $20.  Especially since running wore the polish off in just a few short days.  I’ll stick to slapping on a coat of paint myself and putting the money elsewhere.

unedited My new pedicure free for use My photo...

 

Wine: I love to go to wine tastings and I can certainly appreciate the difference of quality.  However, when it comes down to my normal life, I am simply not awed enough by the difference to spend the extra money.  I’m not embarrassed to say, you will find “Two Buck Chuck” in my home:)

What is on your lists?  What things are valuable to you?

Learning to Breathe

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I’ve never been very good at breathing. 

My childhood was spent with perpetual croup, the seal-barking cough echoing through the house at all hours.  Eventually, I was diagnosed with asthma, my lungs plied with drugs that were supposed to encourage them to relax.  Regardless of the dosages and names of the medications, I always failed my lung function tests at the allergists.  I wasn’t used to failing tests, but I didn’t know how to study for that one.

I adapted to my lungs.  I knew when an attack was about to have me helpless in its clutches, I knew when pneumonia was setting in.  I let my lungs call the shots and we had an agreement that I would work within their constraints.

Then, one day soon after my 30th birthday, I grew tired of the bondage.  I turned the tables on my lungs and informed them I wanted to start running.  This was a laughable goal, as I had never even completed the mile running in school.  But I was determined.

I started at a local park with a .75 mile loop.  My first try was a humbling experience.  You see, I was in shape.  I lifted weights and could do cardio.  I just couldn’t run.  Within moments of beginning, my chest heaved, my breathing was rapid and gasping.  I was taking in air as though threatened, as though the next breath would never come.  I made it one full loop that first day, but I still didn’t know how to run.

Over the next few weeks, I kept at it, returning to the park 3-4 times a week.  I starting to trust my body.  Believe in my breath.  I worked to consciously slow my breathing, pulling air deep down into the unused basement of my lungs.  As I learned to breathe, I was able to increase my mileage to the point where I outgrew that park in the next two months.

My breath training extended to yoga.  I had been practicing since I was in high school, but I always focused on the positions and movements, not the airflow.  Running had brought the breath to consciousness; yoga taught me how to use the breath to calm and energize the body.

Then July came.  Disaster struck.  I lost contact with my breath, but I didn’t even realize it.  I just knew my chest felt constricted, wrapped in bindings carried in by the trauma.  I wasn’t able to run or to do yoga, getting even further out of touch with my lungs.  It finally took a third party to make the re-introduction; a therapist at a meditation and yoga retreat that autumn after my breath left me.

I lay on the floor of her office, cradled in a soft, fuzzy blanket.  She kneeled next to me, her voice soothing and calm.  She spoke to my breath, encouraging it to return, assuring it that I was ready to make its acquaintance once again.  She spoke to me, telling me t trust my breath, to allow it deep into my lungs.

My chest began to rise, the bindings loosening.  As the oxygen flowed in, I felt grounded.  Whole.  Reconnected.

My breath and I still have a complicated relationship.  I frequently don’t find it until a couple miles into a run or 10 minutes into a yoga practice.  I still have to encourage it, willing it back into my body, especially when I find myself gripped my stress.  It may at times be a tumultuous relationship, but I have no intention of loosing connection with my breath again.