Growing Pains

Well, I did it - I changed the account through which all of our day-to-day money will funnel, leaving my paycheck for savings, investments, and outstanding loans. I knew it would be a big step for me. I didn't know I would hyperventilate when I took it.

Fear or not, the shift is necessary. I want the elves around here to be working for me, not the bad guys. I want any found treasure to help the Big Lug, not the corporate bottom line. I want - I need! - to give this gift without any strings, any catches, any quicksand already in place. That's going to hurt a little. Maybe a lot.

Which isn't a bad thing. I don't learn lessons with kindness, only with road rash and sweat and pain. "Bull-headed" is just one of the words used to describe me by anyone who's around for more than five minutes. "Stubborn" doesn't play well with "easy lesson." Hit me upside the head with a 2-by-4 and I just might listen, or give me a task with a tag line of "you can't do it" and I'll do my darndest to prove you wrong (no matter how hard I have to slam into that wall). But give me a gentle reminder - or, God forbid, a reward - and I look around for the hidden knife or the falling sky.

I know, it's stupid. What's worse is that I gave myself this crazy mission - I called the lightning from the sky and dared it to strike me - so I shouldn't snivel or quake because it's working, should I? Because it is. Despite the downturn, I've paid off four accounts and put several thousand dollars into an IRA I didn't even have before April. I've restructured what's left so that I could work part time at retail (if I have to) and still pay the minimums. I've found hundreds of dollars in gold and silver and stones for a fraction of their value. I've even taken a real vacation, and paid for it in cash! And I'm getting a panic attack? How nuts is that?

So, maybe this isn't anxiety after all, at least not the kind I'm used to. It's been awhile since I've stepped out of my comfortable box, and I've spent the past eight months discovering I don't have one but many boxes - nested like those Ukranian dolls - and I've spent most of that time leaping like a salmon up and out of those fragile and foolish boundaries. My weight dropping to within four pounds of that on my wedding day... setting and keeping my deadlines ... our cash flow redirected and moving without obstruction for the first time in our marriage ... travelling and fasting and reinventing and sampling and wanting and getting ...

Dang, I didn't call down the lightning, I reached for the moon. I really can't crab because the stardust is barbed (can I?) because (to me) sharp means learning - growing pains this time not road rash - and upward and outward means hurdle and pitch, charge and attack. I can do that. This Bunny has claws.

Bring it on.