Financial Compassion

Recently, I was driving along a dark country road on my way to the back gate at Furman University. As I approached a bend in the road I thought, “What if there is a car coming toward me?” I moved over closer to the edge of the road. A few seconds later I discovered that I had made the right move. I didn’t see that oncoming car or even its headlights, but I heard that little voice in the back of my head.

Back in December, I decided that I really needed to add some upper body exercises and stretching to my morning walks. In January I consulted with a Furman Health Science professor who recommended swimming and weight machines. Since I ruled out Yoga, he suggested the therapy tank for my lower back and leg problems.

Then one morning in early February, I started my walk confidently expecting to set a new five day record. However after 1.5 miles, just happily walking along the trail, minding my own business, I felt a sharp pain in my lower back, an infrequent reminder of an injury I suffered while working on a car about 29 years ago. Occasionally stopping to stretch the affected muscles, I was able to limp the ½ mile back to my car. I should have accepted the offer of a fellow walker to drive me back to the Sustainability Center parking lot. His car was parked nearby.

Life is like that. Often, that little voice lets us know when we are on a collision course with the universe. When that little voice conflicts with our desires, we tend to ignore it or come up with some kind of explanation excusing what we know is a bad decision.

Sometimes, we just say, “Screw it!” and do what we damn well please.

Then the day comes when we can’t make the minimum payment on all our credit card bills, the repo-man comes in the middle of the night to haul away that new pickup truck, or we realize that paying off those student loans might require a diet of Ramen Noodles and tuna fish for the next thirty years.

Now what? First, extend a little compassion and bit of loving kindness to yourself.

After throwing my back out, yelling at myself wasn’t going to help anything. Loving kindness included ice packs, heating pads, and two days spent primarily on the sofa and in the bed.

On the third day, I was able to hobble around the Furman Lake one time, less than one fourth of my normal distance. Over those two days of forced inactivity, I decided to listen to that little voice and pull the trigger on a more balanced exercise program.

If your finances have crashed and burned, whether it was your fault or the result of powers beyond your control, take a deep breath. Accept the reality of your situation. Stop pretending debt or a lack of money is not a problem. At the same time, avoid the temptation to engage in dramatic outbursts that aren’t going to make you a better person or the world a better place.

As the football players say, “It is what it is.”

I signed up as an alumni member at the Furman Fitness Center. I am swimming one day a week. I hope to increase that to two days a week, but not yet. One of the attendants taught me how to correctly use the eight weight machines that are currently a part of my every other day circuit. And yes, I am attending an easy Yoga class designed for pitiful old folks, like me.

I am not at all sure about this. I have a bad history with exercise, because exercise isn’t fun. Walking is fun, so it is not exercise. As for walking, I am still out there on the trail. I am not back to 30 or more miles a week, but with a little luck, I might hit 28 miles this week.

How fast? Don’t ask. If it is moving slower than me, it is a rock.

Don’t turn down help when you need it. Not accepting that ride was just a pointless display of machismo when a bit of humility would have better served my cause.

Be willing to learn. The Chinese say, “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.” There is somebody out there who can help guide you, if you are willing to stop making demands of the universe and start listening to that little voice. Maybe a really physically fit Health Science professor who has spent his entire adult life studying exercise physiology might know a bit more about the subject than this retired engineer. I have found if you treat an expert with respect, he will usually be willing to give you the advice you need—for free.

The question now becomes, “What price are you willing to pay?” to achieve financial freedom, whatever that might mean to you. To get something, you always have to give up something. If I want to continue to lose weight, increasing the probability that my heart will return to a normal sinus rhythm, I will need to eat less or exercise more. It looks like, at least for the moment, I have maxed out on exercise.

What is the logical next step for you?

Food (Calories In) = Fat Stored + Exercise (Calories Out)

Money In = Money Stored + Money Spent