Archive for the ‘Finding My Power’ Category

Regaining My Power: Gritty as Pudding

I finished reading Angela Duckworth’s book, Grit. In it, there’s a quiz to see how gritty you are. I come up as approximately pudding level. Not that she would ever describe it that way.

The caveat attached to the test noting that this is how you feel about yourself at this very moment in time was very interesting. Your score may well have changed from the past and she goes on to outline how you can change it for the future. While I am pudding at the moment, I didn’t used to be that way. Anyone who knew me really through my mid-twenties could confirm that I had one of the things that made up grit. Passion. An interest in something that was bordering on obsessive. To the point that one job interviewer asked that I tell her about a time when . . . and this time not use horses as an example. Hey, if you want me to tell you about overcoming obstacles and going above and beyond? Work examples are not going to be my defining moments. I’d get up at 4 am to braid for a horse show even if I wasn’t riding. I have never, ever been willing to get up at 4 am for a job.

This passion, this purpose to my life then gave rise to the other half of grit. Perseverance. The willingness to do whatever it takes to move forward and grow in pursuit of my passion. She quotes a Japanese saying, “Fall seven, rise eight.” I’ve been thrown from horses, stepped on, bitten, kicked, knocked into the mud, and placed last in shows more than seven times, but for years I always got up one more time than I was knocked flat.

That’s not how pudding behaves, so what happened? It wasn’t sudden. I can’t point to the second Tuesday in March of a specific year as my pudding date. There were little things. I had to sell my mare. It was coming down to paying my rent or hers and while I think she would have been ok with me moving in with her, my employer at the time would not have been. I got thrown from a couple of horses and literally couldn’t get up, I’d gotten injured. I started working for a company that had a very specific image of itself and since I’d decided to play it safe and go the corporate route, I went about trying to reshape myself into that image. I tried my hand at a couple of other physical pursuits, but I broke my knee in martial arts and never quite made it back. Ballroom dancing suffered from the same problem as horses, it’s terribly expensive and at a certain level it really, really sucks to not have a partner. Of course that one was interesting, since I had to switch from being the brains of the pair with my horse background to being the beauty of the pair. That transition taught me a lot about myself.

Somewhere along the way I realized that the dream I’d always had of having a farm was just that, a dream. It was never actually going to manifest. I lost horses, too, in a more general sense. I can’t afford lessons, and even if I could I know how hard life is for the “heavy rider” lesson horses and I can’t do that to them. Not when I know in my heart of hearts that I’ll never get beyond that level again. The corporate route failed for me; it really doesn’t have much interest in subject matter experts that don’t care to climb the corporate ladder. Then having a job in general failed for me, when being employed full time far more often than not really didn’t cover the bills. I would love to take up dancing again, but being a single female ballroom dancer, particularly in a strange town, sucks. None of these support a bigger picture anymore. There’s no longer a bigger picture to support.

So here I am, a bowl of pudding, wondering where I once got the energy to work full time, help out at a barn, do martial arts, and dance all at the same time.

According to Grit, effort counts twice in the equation. Talent is a great start, if you have it, but it’s talent times effort that makes skill. Skills are great, once you have them, but it’s skill times effort that causes achievement. This is why it’s so possible for wildly talented people to fail and untalented people to wildly succeed. I, personally, probably land somewhat in what she calls the “fragile perfect” group of people. These are the people that are talented enough to skate through most of life doing relatively well without much effort. That was certainly the case in most of school. It sounds like a great thing, until the fragile perfect hits some sort of major bump/detour/challenge. If you haven’t been thrown against increasingly more challenging tasks, ones that demand a stretching of who you are, those serious challenges come as a shock. Getting bucked off a horse wasn’t that big of a deal. I knew how to fall and I was always able to get back on right away. When a buck ended in a broken collarbone which grounded me for weeks, all of a sudden I was faced with whether or not I really wanted to get back on at all. This was no longer within the boundaries of what I knew I could handle. I hadn’t been learning how to push those boundaries outward, so they started moving inward.

Now that we know why I’m pudding, and why that’s a bad thing, the next step will be to talk about how to change it. How do I move up the scale toward Rocky Road? Yeah, it involves being a little nuts.

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Regaining My Power: Financial Independence

Just to be clear, I’m not. Financially independent, that is. But becoming so is getting ever higher on my list of priorities.

I’m one of the 30 or 40% of Millenials living with their parents. I am one of the 19% of Americans with a negative net worth. I am one of the growing number of people that works full time but doesn’t make enough to cover my bills. Despite being employed for all but one year post-college, I was on the verge of homelessness before I moved into my parents’ attic. None of those years were at minimum wage, either.

My peers have been heard to say the following:

“I’m always going to be in debt, so why shouldn’t I go on that cruise?”

“You just don’t want me to have nice things (the occasional Starbucks) because I’m poor.”

“I wouldn’t buy a house even if I could afford one, they’re a financial trap.”

“I’m never going to be able to retire, so why shouldn’t I have fun now?”

You know what? This game sucks and I don’t want to play it anymore. The rules only apply to some of us and we’re the ones so exhausted by the merry-go-round of money in, money out, more money out, loan in, debt payments out that even if we can see how screwed up it is, we don’t have the energy to change it. Assuming we aren’t so afraid of losing our jobs that we wouldn’t dare make a peep.

Financial Independence means different things to different people. For some people it means being able to live it up and spend money like water. For others it means pursuing dreams the cubicle tried to kill. Getting there can happen lots of ways, too. All but zero expenses (freegans, anyone?) mean all but zero income needed. Spending money like water means you have to build/inherit a financial waterfall.

Right now my interest in financial independence is so that I can give a big middle finger to a system that only deigns to notice me to see how much they can convince me to spend and work to make a few people richer. People who are not me. I want to not fear losing my job when I say things like, “employees who are supposed to act like grown-ups should be paid like grown-ups.” If I get fired for it, I want it to be their loss, not mine. Over time I’m sure the focus will mature past profanity, but it’s not a bad place to start. Because it’s making me start.

So where am I right now? In the hole, like most people. Credit card and car loan debt equaling half my annual income. I’ve been tracking my income and expenses for a little over 18 months now, so I’m getting a grasp on where it’s all going. I have a job with overtime potential assuming I can balance it against not losing my mind, followed by the job. I’m not paying rent or interest on my loans thanks to generous parents. I have about $500 cash hidden away to give me a little feeling of control over life. Between actual savings and my 401(k) I have about $1400. Turns out I had more in the 401(k) than I thought!

Where do I need to end up? As a ballpark number, I need my monthly expenses times 300. The other way to get there is annual expenses times 25, but I tend to think in months. If I call my expenses $2,500, which would include rent money, that comes to about $750,000 in investments that allow for a 4% withdrawal without touching the principal. As interim goals, $30,000 in investments will give me $100 per month which would be enough to show up on my chart. $1,000 per month ($300,000) would let me pursue part-time work if I chose.

So how do I get there? After all, $30,000 is technically more than a year’s full-time pay at $14.00 per hour. As Grandpa is fond of saying, you can get rich slowly. It worked for him and for a lot of other people, too. I do pick up a lottery ticket when I think the universe really owes me, but so far the universe hasn’t agreed. In the meantime, this is where all of the tracking of expenses comes in. In the last few months what I’ve been spending on food has been steadily rising. Why? Because the “I deserve sushi instead of a home-packed lunch because work sucks” expenses were rising. The same thing was happening with my book expenses. After all, as an aspiring writer, of course I want the author to get paid. That only happens when you buy the book new. That, and the ones I wanted to get lost in were too hard to find in used bookstores. Now that I’ve identified those trends, I can ask myself if grocery store sushi will really make me feel better, or is it wishful thinking? Since I’ve already bought several books new by this author, wouldn’t it be ok to support a local business that will track down used copies of the rest for me?

This is going to be a long process. I figure I’ve got two years left on the outstanding loan balances before I can make serious headway on the investments, although I have started setting aside some money to invest. During this process I’m a fan of the “stop and consider” method of reducing your purchases rather than punitive thoughts. Some days sushi really will make me feel better. There are some authors I want to support more strongly than others. Telling myself I’m stupid and poor and need to get my crap together instead of being a needy wuss is just going to make me buy more books to drown those thoughts. The flip side of this is I need to work on making more money. Overtime, side hustles (come on, bees!), and job hunting are all on the table. The difference between what’s coming in and what I’m spending will determine how long I’m stuck in this lousy game. The bigger I can make that difference, the faster I’ll have the leverage to start changing the game.

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The actual numbers are beside the point. What’s important is that my income (blue) is almost always higher than my outgo (black). My debt is literally off the chart, so it’s being tracked in the red numbers up top instead of dots. Because the blue dots are almost always above the black dots, those red numbers are slowly counting down. Before I reach the end of the current sheet, I’m hoping to need to track my savings in numbers instead of my debt.

Regaining My Power: Success?

To live an average middle-class life it costs a family about $130,000 per year. To afford a two-bedroom apartment in Maine, a worker needs to be making at least $18.05 per hour. Nationally, to afford a one bedroom apartment, a worker needs to be making at least $15.50 per hour. Remember these numbers.

In the last few months I was offered and accepted a permanent position with a company. Like many similar companies, they do temp-to-hire most of the time which means that for 90(ish) days, their new employees are without insurance or job stability. It’s a 90-day interview. I like the company, they like me. Now that I’m a “real” employee I have insurance and paid vacation along with the limited job security one gets these days. They are proud to be offering competitive wages. I’ve certainly seen worse for similar jobs, though I have heard of better in the area.

I am making $14.00 per hour. Please refer to paragraph #1.

The solution to this, of course, is to “get a better job.” The problem is that this is a “better job.” I’m not flipping burgers, here. (The fact that burger-flippers deserve a living wage, too, is a discussion for another day.) This job doesn’t require a college degree to do the work but good luck getting an interview if you don’t have either a degree or a fair amount of work experience. It’s an office job where I get to be in a temperature-controlled environment and stare at multiple computer monitors all day long. This is supposed to be a job to strive for.

Don’t get me wrong, this is not about this particular company twisting the screws on us poor workers. I believe that they genuinely believe they’re doing well enough by their workers with what they offer. I’m not silly enough to ask them to do well by their workers at such an insignificant level as the literal interface between the customers and the company, but I think they are earnest in doing well enough. The problem is the paradigm in which a company can earnestly offer wages that are competitive in the local economy yet still offer too little to allow them to afford a one-bedroom apartment.

This, of course, leads into my current personal struggle. I have had a job, mostly full time, for pretty much my entire adult life. I have not had a minimum wage job since I was shelving books at the library at 16. When I wasn’t employed, I was living off of my own money, such as it was. Since I sold my last horse, I have no outrageous spending habits to support. Yet, despite all of that, I am living in my parents house because it wouldn’t have been long before I was homeless if I hadn’t moved here.

I have a “better job,” and I have future prospects at the company, provided they don’t take offense at this post. Somehow I’m supposed to be grateful for this opportunity. But grateful for what? For another 30 to 50 years of mostly getting by, hopefully, while someone else gets rich off of my work? A coworker is making now what they were making the year I was born, so in 30 years I may still be making $14.00. If I’m not doing it at this job, it’s not like any other “better job” would offer me another option. My supervisor was kind enough to tell us permanent hires that they’re always watching us; it’s like every day is an interview. She said it very sweetly, she’s very sweet, but the very idea of 40+ hours worth of interview each week is rather exhausting. She’s right, though. There’s no such thing as getting a job and being sure to keep it as long as you don’t do anything really, truly heinous.

I have achieved success. I have a job that will almost pay my bills and firing me out of hand is slightly harder than when I was a temp. I have health insurance whose deductible is only two weeks worth of pay before it kicks in (that’s the pay before I cover silly things like food and rent). I have the opportunity to reach up into middle management.

Could someone remind me why I’m playing this game again? I’ve forgotten.

Finding My Power: To Farm or Not To Farm

This seems to be the perpetual question. On the one hand, if we don’t have farmers, we don’t have food. This should be pretty straight forward, right? On the other hand, it is difficult, verging on impossible to be a farmer and be able to afford to feed yourself. That should be a ridiculous statement, but it’s not.

In my blog about what it would take to gross $10,000, I only addressed the numbers generated from my interest in farming. This needs to be looked at from another angle, though. What are the numbers my current employment is generating and what are other possible income amounts broken down into the hours, weeks, and months they take to get to $10,000.

I am currently working at a temp job that I rather enjoy making $12 per hour. In Maine, I’m doing ok as a moderately skilled temp. To gross $10,000 I need to work 833.33 (call it 833) hours which is 20.825 (call it 21) weeks or 5 months. That’s a long time. It’s also not taking into account commuting time, gas, clothing requirements, or the fallout from not feeling like I’m contributing in any meaningful way to the world. Gas and commuting time are fairly easy to attach numbers to. I am commuting pretty much exactly an hour each way five days a week plus five 30-minute lunches, making my 40-hour week actually a 52.5-hour week. 40 hours times $12 per hour divided by 52.5 hours means that counting the commute and lunch, I’m being paid $9.14 for each hour the job is consuming. Gas is costing me about $38 per week and the vast bulk of it is for my commute. That means that 21 weeks of commuting costs me $798. At $9.14 per hour before taxes, that means about 87 hours are spent just paying for gas. That’s over 1.5 of my 52.5 hour weeks every 5 months are just paying for gas.

Let’s say I find a job with the same commuting and lunch time and cost, but I’m making $15 per hour for 40 hours. That’s 666.66 (call it 667) hours which is 16.675 (call it 17) weeks or 4 months. My actual time being used is still 52.5 hours per week, which means I’m actually being paid $11.43 per hour before taxes. 17 weeks of commuting at $38 per week is $646 or 56.5 hours. That’s just over a week every 4 months is to pay for gas.

Temping, like an increasing number of permanent jobs, does not offer insurance or any guarantee of hours. Unlike a permanent job, my temporary employer can send me home at lunch time and tell me not to come back for absolutely no reason other than they don’t need me. Poof- no more income. The staffing agency has it in their best interest to get me back to work as quickly as possible, but that might be days or weeks of unemployment. Have you ever tried to save an emergency fund on $12 per hour?

Farming also offers no insurance, no guarantees, and if you’re not careful, the potential to end up with no income and a pile of debt if it all falls apart. On the other hand, I will be using and learning skills that are actually useful in the real world. The world in which being able to feed yourself means knowing whether those berries are yummy or deadly. I have the potential to make my corner of the world healthier, cleaner, and better habitat for both my cultivated plants and animals and the local plants and animals that are using the same space. I can help to perpetuate skills, genes, and equipment that we will need when we realize that Agribusiness might not be working as well as advertised. Farming, particularly small-scale farming, demands a certain level of fitness that will keep me healthy long past the time when an office-bound body would fall apart. It has its own challenges for health, but at least you can often see them coming. I can build the business to embrace my strengths and interests and my income is limited only by my imagination and ability to manifest what I see.

Now comes the hard part. I have been told, am being told, will continue to be told that the responsible thing is to get a “real” job. I need to work on a skill set that employers are looking for. I need to invest time, energy, and possibly money in pursuing what society tells me is an acceptable, respectable, logical use of my time and energy resulting in a “fair” income. I will be paid what I am “worth.”

I was talking about this with a friend and he asked if I’d considered what I would regret not doing in 10 years. 10 years ago I was just settling into a job with a company that I had spent the previous couple of years building a resume to get into. It was a good, solid company. I knew people that loved working there. I was making more money than I had ever made before. I was studying hard to get the licensing to move up in the ranks exactly the way I was supposed to. I may have even had my first exam under my belt at that point. I was doing everything right.

I’m not saying I didn’t learn things from working there, but in the end, you learn things from walking face first into a wall, too. Just because everyone’s doing it and everyone’s saying you need to do it, doesn’t mean it’ll work. Not everyone can get through to Platform 9 ¾, and it turned out I’m one of the ones that can’t.

I can’t quit my job and start farming tomorrow. I do have access to land that I don’t have to pay for, which is more than most people in my situation can say. What I don’t have are a significant number of skills or the money for the infrastructure. 31 hives worth of materials (excluding bees) will cost me about $5,663- that’s 472 hours (12 weeks or 3 months) worth of work at $12 per hour before taxes and expenses. However, I can take the time I would spend looking for a “real” job, and the small amount of disposable income I do have and spend it on a small number of hives so that I can build the necessary skills. If things go well, the hives themselves may gradually generate the income needed to expand my operations. If things go badly, I won’t have spent more than I had and it could be chalked up to an educational expense.

I guess it wasn’t as much of a question as I thought.

Finding My Power: Which World?

I was listening to two audio books that randomly ended up perfectly paired. They both dealt with the idea that to live the best, brightest, most awesome life we can, we need other people’s support to make it happen. How each of the authors went about getting that support is all the more important as we gear up for the 45th President of the United States.

The first presents a world in which one goes for the deal. Find out what the market is looking for and give it to them. Test market and don’t start production until you’re sure there’s an audience. Buy your components and advertising cheap and sell your final product for as much as the market will bear. What you can’t get off your plate by streamlining in the process, outsource to the lowest bidder. Then, the payoff. Everybody wants to travel the world, and the global south will let you get a whole lot of bang for the bucks you have coming in.

I think it has some useful ideas. There are ways to work the system to your advantage. I’m particularly fine with doing that to large companies. They can handle it. Our culture runs on money, and making it is a reasonable goal.

The second takes a much more relational look at things. You have your strengths and gifts, they have their strengths and gifts and between you, both sides can come out ahead. If you’re travelling the world, couch surf and in return offer something of yourself. Maybe it’s return surfing, maybe it’s art, maybe it’s an experience, but it’s something that’s yours to give. Make money with your gifts because we all have bills to pay, and always pay your debts. But the payoff is wrapped up in the relationships that you’re building as you share what you have and others share what they have, allowing you all to build richer lives.

This one’s hard. It requires a balance between knowing and believing in yourself and your gifts with the ability to be open to asking for and accepting help. You need to be able to connect with people in a trust that we don’t see very often at this point.

The world as it stands right now supports the first book. If you buy low, sell high, and get a deal, particularly if it makes you rich, then you win. The second is a lot harder, particularly if your interpersonal skills are less than awesome. For the first one, you will be rewarded superficially, but I’m not sure whether it offers true long-term richness. The second one offers the real deal, if you can buck the current culture long enough to develop the relationships.

Right now, it’s all about tweets and “making deals.” Its about making sure that everyone pays up and no one gets a free ride. If you can’t bootstrap yourself into a better position, then its your fault, not the fault of a culture that doesn’t care about you unless you’re rich.

The thing about bootstraps, though? You can’t lift yourself by your own. But you can lift your friends, and they can lift you in return.

 

Tim Ferriss vs Amanda Palmer

Regaining My Power: Day 365

Today is Day 365 on my 1,000 day challenge. It’s a really cool idea that you can change your life in 1,000 days (or less) but if you find out that you’ve changed it all in the wrong way? Well, write that one off and try again- it wasn’t that long, after all! It ends up being less than three years, all told.

My first 1,000 days was started on July 14, 2016. It was 1,000 Days to a Viable Farm. It didn’t work. There was no way I could believe in a viable farm when I was renting a room from someone who didn’t want me to dig holes in her yard and I didn’t have the income to support living anywhere else.

By October 15, 2016 (no, the math doesn’t work, but I’m rolling with it!) I was ready to do a reboot and actually log each day. I had managed to buy and move into an RV, and I had come to terms with the fact that life wasn’t working in Colorado and I needed to do something different. I also realized that a viable farm couldn’t be my first goal. The current challenge is actually a dual challenge: 500 Days to a Life Worth Living and 1,000 Days to a Functional Farm. After all, a farm can’t function if its farmer can’t manage to roll herself out of bed in the morning.

I have been almost completely consistent in noting each day, and I think that alone is helpful. The three things I’ve noted each day is whether I took my supplements (they have varied some), what I did for my job (“went” is a common entry), and my movement that day. Commentary has moved from evening to first thing in the morning for the sake of consistency. Currently the common theme is “I hate 5 am.”

The negative, because that’s always the first thing I see: I weigh more (five or nine pounds, depending on where you count from), I’m further in debt, I no longer have any idea when I can live on my own again, and I still don’t have a “real” job.

I weigh more because when things don’t go well, I gain weight. That “real” job that I thought I’d snagged when I got here? Very bad for my waistline. I am currently employed, more or less gainfully, as a temp, though, and it’s mostly covering the bills without driving me ’round the bend. The additional debt is because my car bit the dust in the last year. After 12 years of me as the owner, Io did deserve her rest, and she did wait to die until I was in a place that I had access to help and a reliable replacement car. She did well by me all the way until the end. As far as living on my own goes, that won’t happen until I have the kind of job that will support enough space that I can take my chickens with me. After, of course, I’ve made a dent in my debt with that income.

The positive, because I need to remember that it happens, too: I have chickens, I can think again more often than not, the food is really good here, I’m slowly thinking through the farm thing again, and I have a truck!

Ok, so the truck isn’t a “real” truck by my definition. There’s no way it could pull a horse trailer. On the other hand, it’s supposed to be darn near indestructible, and I need that in a vehicle. It also gave me a truck bed for hauling the turkeys I’d raised off to be butchered. Five of my hens are laying, and all six are healthy. This is all giving me numbers and actual experience to extrapolate from. Things like- make the coop bigger the first time! I’m currently reading and thinking through a book on farm finance. It’s actually quite interesting, now that I have the brain power to apply to it. As for the food, nothing beats garden veggies at every meal. Particularly when I don’t have to cook them!

After 365(ish) days, it’s a mixed bag. Maybe I would have done better if I’d set more concrete, measurable goals, maybe not. “A life worth living” is a very slippery thing to define, but I think it’s safe to say that I’m closer to yes on that than I was when I started. As for the functional farm? According to the book on farm finance I’m solvent! Just don’t ask to see the profit and loss statement . . .

Regaining My Power: Thinking-Thoughts

I’ve been slowly coming to this idea that I have “thinking-thoughts” again. For a long time I have been trapped by “bramble-thoughts,” or thoughts that are the mental equivalent to the blackberry problem in the north west. Due to the nature of bramble-thoughts, I’m not even sure how long they’ve been dominant. What I do know is that for what felt like a long time, I knew my brain wasn’t working the way it was supposed to, I just couldn’t for the life of me remember how it used to work.

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it before, but I deal with depression. I haven’t said “suffer from” for, well, I’m not sure I ever really did. It’s part of who I am and just something to work with. Kind of like shopping for pants with my big butt. I can’t wear wicked low-cut jeans and I don’t get to know what it’s like to wish for immortality. It’s just how I roll.

The bramble-thoughts are part of my depression. They start out innocently enough with a cane or two. They even offer berries in the form of writing ideas. Ok, so I get scratched reaching past the thorns for the berries, but it’s a great idea! But they grow. And as they grow the berries get harder and more sour. Instead of what I can write about, they become why my writing is stupid. Then the surrounding thorns of why I shouldn’t even try to write- not that I can by that point. But I keep reaching through the thorns and eating the berries because by then, that’s all I’ve got. The bramble-thoughts have managed to out-compete anything else in my head that might offer a different opinion.

Eventually, if the bramble gets dense enough, I lose the ability to move. I’m so hemmed in by the thorns of what I’ve done wrong, why I’m stupid, and what I’ll never be able to do- not to mention knowing that everyone is aware of every single short-coming and only spends time with me out of obligation or pity- that I can’t even look up to see if the sky is blue because I know I’ll just get stabbed by something else. And it’s probably overcast anyway.

Lots of things feed the brambles. I always have a cane or three in my head, poking me when they can and just waiting for the environment to shift a bit in their favor. More than one job has nurtured this latest crop, particularly encouraging the “you can’t do anything right” thorns. The general economic climate and my insufficient income in the last few years managed to clearcut swathes of healthy shade trees of possibilities, leaving that lovely empty space to be grown in. My current debt situation and erratic employment has made any ideas about my future weak, anemic things that can’t shoulder aside the brambles to make their own space.

Luckily, my current job is helping me start to smother the brambles. I’ve been temping at a couple of different places doing the sort of jobs that don’t require a whole lot of thought. I’m good at the jobs, much to the bramble-thoughts’ dismay, and not needing to think too hard means that I get to listen to books on tape. I hate being read to, so they’re non-fiction. It’s like listening to a lecture. At about a book per day, it doesn’t even really matter what the book is, since it’s not a huge commitment.

Between the work that’s keeping my hands and a small slice of my mind busy, and the books that are occupying the rest of my mind, there isn’t anything for the brambles to feed on. Praise from coworkers has even been scything them back just a little. When I started I was mostly just listening. I was picking up the odd idea here and there, but not so much thinking. Now I’m finding myself taking the ideas I listen to during the day and actually having thinking-thoughts about them on the drive home. How do these ideas apply to me? How can I use them toward my own goals? What does this mean for me in the greater scheme of things? What other books should I find to flesh out these ideas?

Thinking-thoughts come with their own drawbacks. After all, I simply don’t have the energy to explain to everyone how a cap on CEO salaries and reasonable wages for the rest of us will help businesses, and come up with a start-up company so that I can have passive income so I can afford to do everything that I want to do, and actually write in this blog, and start a locally-focused blog, AND figure out how to expand my chickens and turkeys, AND, by the way, get my turkeys butchered and in the freezer, AND work up numbers on beekeeping in Maine, AND . . . Also, I want to do it all right now!

Now that I think about it, those bramble-thoughts are some really nasty invasives if they managed to snuff all that out! And I’ve only just scratched the surface. I’m starting to remember how my brain is supposed to work. The thoughts are getting stronger in the places where the bramble-thoughts have been smothered back, but they aren’t going full-bore yet.

Thinking-thoughts are showing up just in time, too. On top of everything else, NaNoWriMo is coming, and I really need to beat last year’s numbers!