The day after the Ironman, July 26th 2010, I hobbled to Steve's music shop and bought myself a very good guitar. I still surprise myself by being surprised every time I can afford to buy something nice and not worry about having enough money to pay for it, because I have enough. I think about how having enough is a function of hard work, and of pure luck. As a child, I wasn't worried about financial security until I ended up on my own at age 15. After that, everything became about finding ways to make sure I would have enough to make ends meet, and to have a bit of savings; those dollars I put aside were primoridal because they bought me dreams and hope. I remember that for my sixteenth birthday, my brother bough me a pair of running shoes; the kind all the kids had in a variety of colors. He got me one (they were white), they replaced the only pair of shoes filled with holes I had worn for years, and I wore the new white shoes everywhere until they too were no longer wearable. I never felt poor- I had three jobs ( I was a clerk in a card shop and a corner store after school 5 days a week and loved the variety of switching between the jobs), and I served meals in an elderly home on the weekends - I had to wear a hair net, but that job was unionized and paid almost double the others. I loved getting my paychecks. I would calculate the net amount in advance. I knew exactly how much money I had in which of my multiple bank accounts at all times. I knew how much my groceries would cost, how I could save and still eat well by buying the fruits and veggies on special only, and I was grateful to Mr. Mallen who let me pay the rent on the day which suited me each month; I lived with the illusion of having plenty even though I had very little. But I couldn't afford a guitar then - and that was ok because I didn't even allow myself to think I could want one.
Luck and a few right choices made the rest possible. Hard work at school and diligence in my studies got me a multitude of scholarship to great Universities. I loved school, but only for the accomplishment of the grade; what I learned I forgot as soon as the semester was over. University (and a boy) led to my love of the Spanish language. I graduated fluent in three languages. I wanted to travel - in the middle of a recession with no money in my pocket - and asked myself how I could travel and be paid for it. Luck (and perseverance) led me to land a job on a cruise ship. At sea I was fed, clothed and my travel was fully paid; I managed to save almost every cent I earned for over five years. I left the Ocean life with enough of a downpayment for a condo - and my real estate investment doubled in 5 years. I bought a house, and it's price doubled. Back on land I started at the bottom of the corporate hierarchy; I worked hard, got promoted often, and earned an honest living doing something I was good at. There was alot of luck - I met extraordinarily bright men and women who believed in me and who I wanted to make proud in return. I had children, and they made my life make sense. It was up to me to provide for them, and make sure they did not grow up wanting. It was also up to me to teach them that frivolous purchases were frivolous... and that happiness didn't come from having all of the latest electronic gadgets.
I never took any of it for granted. I don't have alot of money compared to some, and I have more than others. I live with the knowledge that I am rich from who i am, and not from what I own; and that it could all disappear tommorrow, the money, and I wouldn't be worse off for it. I got here because I worked, but I was also lucky. Very lucky. And I still push myself every day to work hard because there are little beings who I am financially responsible for now. And every time I spend on something I don't need, I am still surprised that I can. Like the guitar. I was going to buy the beginner's guitar, the inexpensive, practical guitar that comes with the kit, the metronome and the case for a very low package deal, ideal for someone who just wants to strum. And I surprised myself in the store when I asked the clerk:
- He showed me a few models that were a few hundred dollars more. Still, I pressed on - Oh, those are more than beginner guitars; they can suit the needs of experts too too>. , I replied. And thus I ended up with a top of the line, Quebec made, Seagull guitar with all of the trimmings. I paid for it on my credit card (to get the points), and transferred money out of my savings account to pay off the credit card the minute I got home (I always do, paying interest is like flushing money down the toilet). And because of my past and because of my relationship with money, I couldn't let the guitar sit in a corner unused. I started thinking about millionaires who collect cars and pay for car insurance and parts and labor and a heated garage for their cars just for the priviledge of driving whatever car they want when they want, and it all seems so wasteful to me. Why buy something if you don't use it? Why collect homes around the world just to visit them a few weeks a year? You end up paying taxes and utilities and its just like throwing money out the window! And so I reasoned the same way about the guitar: What's the point of buying the guitar if it won't be used to make beautiful music? And so I began to learn; and the purchase of the guitar also bought me the immense satisfaction of learning a new skill. At the beginning, I hated the sound I made every time i tried a chord. And then Sidney (the teacher who came with the guitar - such was the investment), told me that in time, I wouldn't sound like I was playing with pots and pans. And he was right! And one day I nailed the F Chord, (my fingers wouldn't collaborate for the first 3 months and the F chord was not something I could achieve), and I was so proud!
So the guitar bought me so much more than six strings in a wooden case. The guitar is a symbol for being able to afford myself the privilege of learning a new skill, without compromising on any of the necessities my family needs. It's me doing something for me; for fun. It's not an investment in anything other than pleasure. There is no ROI to be measured, no gains or losses to be calculated. There is simply the joy of strumming on an instrument and getting better at it everytime I invest some time. And mostly, knowing that with a little bit of luck, and hard work, this project will turn out ok too; cause I'm makin' plans...
