Where the Treasures Are

The Assets vs. Obligation is done. Last year's, the first year I'd ever done it, took me three days of digging, remembering, and calculating (and two weeks to wait for pin numbers and confirmations). This year's took a little over an hour (and that only because my online account for one of the items had disappeared due to an account number change). The results shocked even me - compared the last year's totals, this year the Big Lug and I are ... drum roll please ... down by 23.4%.

Not where I wanted to be, certainly. Makes my quest that much more difficult, obviously. But in a year in which stock and housing markets lost nearly half of their values, we are only down 23.4%. And we both have jobs. And we cut our debt nearly in half (and increased our investing by almost as much). And we're not upside-down in anything. And we're still in love. And ... well, you get the idea.

I blame treasure hunting for this miracle. I have become so much more aware, so much more grateful for everything. I notice, and I thank, and then I spend less yet have an overabundance. I don't understand it but I love it. I suspect that even if I simply continue what I'm doing right now, even if I do nothing differently, I believe that next year's A/O would show us not back where we were but where we should be. Not going to happen, of course - I have too many plans to be content with a draw. And I've learned too much to go backward.

What have I learned?

1) If I want to win this game I must trust my instincts ... to a point. Whether I'm looking at stocks or at jewelry, I listen when something tells me to move. But I cannot let my emotions take over at that point - the excitement and, yes, greed can easily take over. So if it means cutting across a crowded street or dumping several thousand dollars into a mutual fund, then it's my cue to investigate only - with all possible speed, yes, but just to blindly jump, no way (I waited a week, and researched my best options, before I opened my IRA last spring). If it means spending 99 cents on a slightly off-looking charm, however - and on 25% off day, too - well, then, I buy the silly piece with no questions asked. Yes, sometimes it's a "learning curve" item (see #2 and #3). But not always. Both the saxaphone (14K white) and the chain (14K yellow) were inexpensive impulse buys.

2) If I hope to get that $5 mil, I must educate myself ... on everything. This year, I found out that there are some things I'm just not cut out for ... yet. Understanding the stock market in one fell swoop, for example, is a royal pain in my neck. Literally. But you never know what will come in handy. Seriously, a chance remembrance from Antiques Roadshow made me notice the chest (see right) the first time, and recognize the difference between inlay and paint. And my early magic-butt find gave me the impetus to learn how to tell the difference between a real diamond, a fake, and a really good fake (yet I still depend on expensive diamond testers - thank you jewelry store gal! - to really know). I study everything, whether I think I'll need it or not because if I'm interested in a topic, it will be used some day - Mama Angel will see to that. After all, I didn't completely screw up the financials, and I really thought I might. Accounting and Econ (college) finally paid off.

3) If any of us have a chance for a secure life, we have to forgive ourselves when we fail. For the times I followed my greed, or totally effed up with a "learning curve" item that was expensive ... wait, that's the same thing. If I didn't know for sure I could resell it some day for more, if I didn't absolutely love it right then yet I still bought it - unless it was scientific curiosity, of course (remember the box of rocks?) - then I bought it for the wrong reasons. Yet I learned this year that I could not only forgive myself and move on but revel in the new knowledge about the item, and about myself. In fact, I turned many of my biggest mistakes into posts - my favorite form of therapy.

4) The cash isn't the thing; even the things aren't really the thing. In part, the hunt is the thing - if I follow passion instead of greed or fear, then I will not only reach my goals but I will love every step of the path to them. Even more than the search for new things, though, I've learned that treasure hunting is also rediscovering the already-have ... and not just the gold earrings my sister-in-law gave me fifteen years ago, either. Last winter, my daughter and I bonded over - of all things - rocks and minerals. My husband and I are learning we can work together on projects (small ones, so far). My dog and cat have both shown me the value of naps, of apologies, and of being unafraid to demand what you want when you want it (the worst that will happen is someone will say "no"). I've rediscovered the exquisite payoff in smaller portions and bigger flavors, found space in my house I didn't know I had, uncovered quiet time in a schedule made for madness, realized a gift for prioritizing (which I really didn't know I had). I have felt more and experienced more ... I have allowed myself to feel and experience more this year than I have in decades. Because if I've learned anything it's that success always demands risk - nothing happens in a vacuum but free-fall. And I'm tired of drifting.

Which might just be the biggest treasure of them all.