Yesterday, my brother-in-law reminded me that I have only two months left in which to make a million. “There’s still time,” I said, although in reality, I reckon my chances of making even a 100th of that amount before the year is out are diddly squat.
It got me thinking. Since coming up with this whole Oneyeartomakeamillion thang, I have really grafted. I’ve worked with a life coach, a business coach and a Journey practitioner. I have given talks, networked my sorry arse off and handed out enough business cards to fill an entire football stadium – that is a slight exaggeration, but you get my drift.
The end result? I am earning LESS money now than when I started. All that hard work and manifesting has actually taken me further away from my goal (I just misspelt that and wrote goat. I reckon I’d have more chance of finding a million goats). My approach is not working. Really this was obvious to me four or five months in, but I guess I just buried my head in the sand.
Have I failed to make money because I am not good at my job? Clever enough? Charismatic enough? Creative enough? Diligent enough? Disciplined enough?
Then, what has gone wrong?
My finances are in dire shape. My PR business is just about breaking even, I’ve sold £12 worth of cards online in the last month and for the first time in my life, I am living off my husband.
Looking back, I realise that my predominant feeling has been one of ‘lack’. I’ve been in a permanent ‘Oh shit, how am I ever going to make enough money to even live?’ state. As the Journey practitioner explained, that mindset is only going to make me poorer and here I am, the living proof.
What do I do now? I’ve already worked out that I’m really not that bothered about making a million quid. Yes, I would love to do my house up, build an office/studio in the garden and go on nice holidays. Really though, in all honesty, I am not motivated by money.
Why don’t I just quit fretting, be happy to live off my husband and assume that it’s all going to work out? Now that is a liberating thought (not sure my husband would agree!). It’s not as if we’re living in the favelas and worrying about where the next meal is coming from. If it all turns to shit, we can sell the house. Maybe we could buy a smaller one which we could actually afford to decorate.
While my yearning for the mighty million has dwindled, my thirst for leading a more spiritual life has increased tenfold. Of all the people I’ve sought help from this year, the Journey practitioner is the one person who has really inspired me. I love her no-nonsense approach to all things spiritual. There is no talk of angels, unicorns or aliens, it’s all very practical and makes perfect sense to me.
She runs a one year spiritual mentoring group for women. It’s hardcore and takes a lot of commitment. I had no intention of doing it until one of this year’s participants told me how it had changed her life. This course costs £2.5K for 10 months. I’m not making any money, so can I really afford to fork out that much on a soul seeking exercise?
In all honesty, I don’t feel I have choice. The pull to embark on a spiritual path is strong and signing up for the mentorship programme is a testimony to my commitment.
I am convinced that everybody has a purpose in this life and I haven’t found mine yet. I know it’s something to do with writing and storytelling, but exactly what, I’m not sure. Scrabbling around in a state of mindless panic over finances only serves to detach me from the answers that are hidden somewhere inside me.
Don’t get me wrong, I am NOT taking a vow of poverty and will continue to flex my receiving muscle, oh yes, I am going to be a champion receiver by the time this year is out, but I’m done with lofty financial goals and the stress that it brings.
Money is not flooding in, but changes are afoot and my kids have eyed me nervously since I did The Journey. ‘Mum’s gone all weird,’ said my youngest this morning before adding ‘She’s got good moods and keeps being nice to everyone.’
I’m off to a Gong Bath And Chanting Workshop at six and think I’d better tell a white lie and say I’m going to the gym….
My soul is in the driving seat and it’s got SatNav.