“Life Takes Visa”
~
Visa Card commercial
“I make myself
rich by making my wants few.”
~ Henry David Thoreau
In Part 1 of this series,
I asked folks from our community what were the negative aspects
to living with limited financial resources, or in plainer words, “bein’ po!” The
responses were full of sadness, but also humor and wisdom. I then
asked what were the gifts, the advantages of living with little money.
Here’s what I heard:
• I have gotten to know my city better, searching for free concerts, new
transportation routes, free or low-cost items. And through that exploration,
getting to meet and become friends with new people.
• A stronger connection
to my family. Money issues can often drive families apart, but
when my illness took away my financial independence, my whole family
rallied behind me, and my hard times became our hard times. And
our hard times are now leading to a closer, sharing, more loving
family.
• I’ve learned the lost art of writing letters. I didn’t
have time for anything but five word e-mails, and I hadn’t
actually written anything since kindergarten it seems. But now the
words are different, more important when they’re slowly written.
They mean more, I’m more careful in what I say, and I try to
make each letter I send a treasure, something precious. I journal
now, and even write poetry. My handwriting is getting better, but
it has to be that bad so people don’t find out about my atrocious
spelling!
• I don’t go to the Mall anymore. And now it’s
often said, well, mostly by me, that it’s made me a kinder,
gentler, smarter, sexier, more humble human being.
• I once had a lot of stuff, “toys,” belongings,
just “stuff” that weighed me down. It’s so true
that you don’t own your belongings, they end up owning you.
I’ve had to cut back because of lack of money and lack of space,
but even though I’m less physically “mobile,” it’s
made me more “mobile!”
• I appreciate what I’ve got more than ever. I have some
prized books that I keep, some beautiful art on the wall, especially
a drawing that my godchild drew when she was five, a picture of her
holding my hand. I wouldn’t trade it for an original Picasso.
Before life gave me a wake-up call, the “fast track” was
blinding me to the beauty in the little things around me. “Slowing
down” has given me a gift I didn’t expect, but has turned
out to be the best lesson I ever learned: you can’t buy “slowed
down.” Sometimes you get lucky like I did, or sometimes you
just have to do it.
• Without money Christmas was a hard, shameful time for me.
I have had to learn how to make presents for my family and friends
instead of buying things. I bake cookies, I make greeting cards,
I make personalized collages, find ideas everywhere for new creations,
and I’m finding that as I use my creativity, it’s evolving
and growing. My handmade gifts have become the most prized in my
family. My sister called last Christmas and said that she doesn’t
have the time to do anything more than buy some DVDs for everyone.
Her gifts are watched once and then forgotten. But she said my gifts
touch hearts and become prized possessions within my family. And
now she is going to come over more at the holidays and spend more
time with me making special gifts. I got off the phone and cried
when she told me that.
• I don’t
think that living with a chronic illness or disability and also
being poor automatically makes you a more courageous person. But
it sure gives you lots of opportunities to find that courage!
• I’m more self-reliant now. It used to be that for many
situations, I’d just whip out the Master Card. I’d draw
it like a gun, and I was the Fastest Charger in the West! Not so
easy now, so I have to be smarter, more creative. My injury threw
me into a different “mouse maze.” And when you have to
find a new way through the maze of life, you either become a very
frustrated mouse or a very creative one.
• My job title
is much fancier now. In the ‘80s, when
I was (so-called) “able-bodied,” I was just an unemployed
(mostly) (probably ‘cause of that rascal Reagan) construction
worker. But now that I’m (so-called) “dis-abled” (sounds
like an old Yugo) I’ve had a chance to talk in public (I imagine
my audience as all naked. And Reagan) about living with a disability.
So now I’m a “Disability Ambassador” or perhaps “Disability
Heart-throb!” ![]()
Next month is Part 3, the
lessons learned.
Pete Feigal can be contacted
at PFeigal@aol.com
