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Money Mindset, Success Mindset

I KEPT MYSELF FROM MAKING SERIOUS MONEY, BECAUSE IF I WAS SAFE WITH MONEY, THEN WHAT WAS EVEN THE POINT?

I kept myself from making serious money because if I was safe with money, then what would even be the point of the whole thing?

What would I be getting up for each day, what was there to push or strive for and why even do ANYTHING?

If I was doing it for money –

It made sense.

It proved a point.

There was an END goal in sight.

‘Do this so I get that’.

But if I didn’t get up and do what I needed to do for MONEY each day, then why would I do it at ALL?

I couldn’t say for purpose or passion or flow or fulfilment, because if I would say that then it would imply that I thought I was good enough to JUST DO THINGS FOR THE SAKE OF DOING THE THINGS … that there was a value to my work, my art, my self, beyond just the value of what somebody would pay for it.

I suppose a lot of people think that money is one of the highest measurements of value –

But actually,
you’ll find,
when you consider your work being of value JUST BECAUSE IT’S OF VALUE and because it’s fucking transformational, powerful, MOVES people and changes them –
that money is the lowest value of all.

Somebody paid you for your work, great.
Your work is worthy of being put into the world because it has the potential to change the world and there is literally not a price that can be PUT on that?

Fuck me.

So, I ran.
I ran from purpose, I ran from passion, I ran from flow, I ran from doing what I needed to do for the sake of DOING WHAT I NEEDED TO DO.

I made it that ‘I have to do this or I won’t be able to pay my rent, etc’.

That makes it explicable.
It makes it safe.
It makes it ACCEPTABLE, of course – who can argue with that?! Nobody! Certainly not the scared me, the inner me.

But – ‘I have to do this because it’s that fucking important, and people need to hear this, and I have to get it out, and it’s what my life is meant to BE about, even if I NEVER MAKE A CENT FROM IT?’

Once again –

Fuck me.

It was too much … too much to consider, or contemplate, or figure out. I knew that I had this burning need inside of me, this deep deep HOLE, something was missing, I wasn’t happy, I wasn’t fulfilled, I couldn’t relax into just BEING.

And I told myself –

It was because I didn’t have the money to be ABLE to be at peace with myself, my life, my soul.

A silly silly story
Based on a lie
Because while money is FABULOUS
It cannot provide soul peace

And the truth was, that by making MONEY into the thing I was missing, the thing I needed to be filled, to be whole, to know I was enough, and doing enough, and could fucking BREATHE –

I avoided the truth.

Which was that the only thing which would ever, COULD ever, was ever gonna fill me up was giving my ALL –

My heart
My soul
My mind
Every part of me

TO LIVING FOR MY ART

And acknowledging that indeed, this art?

Was the very beat of my art, and for certain, without it?

I was just drifting –
In a cloud –
Through a life –
Of keeping up appearances –
Making some money –
Or not –
Doing some cool shit –
Either way –
But whether I got paid or didn’t, whether I paid my bills or couldn’t, whether I received the acclaim or NO, NONE OF IT FUCKING MATTERED

Sometimes I’d make some more money … enough to feel safe, for a bit … ‘look at me! I’m flying high!’ … and I’d feel the noose loosen. But as it did, almost instantly, a fear so great I couldn’t even begin to FATHOM it arose.

If money was now no longer an issue –
That meant that ALL THAT WAS LEFT TO PURSUE WAS PURPOSE.

Fuck me.
Fuck me.
FUCK ME.

Because what if what if WHAT if I wasn’t good enough, I couldn’t, people didn’t want me to BE the transformational person, what if I FELL ON MY FACE AND THEN THE WHOLE SKY CRASHED DOWN ON TOP OF ME?!

If I didn’t need to fill and save myself with MONEY then I would be faced with having to fill and save myself with PURPOSE, with PASSION, and with me –

Just being me
For the very sake of just being me
And for no other reason than just being me

Nothing to GET from it
Nothing to PROVE
Nothing to WORK TOWARDS, either

Just total
Unadulterated
Swimming
in Me-ness

It was too much, too much, TOO much for me to consider, or take on board, or handle, at all.

My throat would close over at the very idea of it!

I CAN’T LIVE FOR PURPOSE, AND PURPOSE ALONE! I DON’T KNOW HOW!

Nobody gave me PERMISSION to do that!

It’s NOT the done thing!

It’s not why we get up in the morning … is it?

And so I would do
Invariably
What we all do
Invariably
Before we figure it out
(hopefully)

And I’d back track back track back track, cycle back QUICKLY –

To where money was scarce
Fear was rising
The noose once more tightened

And once again I could breathe, because I knew how to live for MONEY, any fool can do that!

I felt safe
I felt like I knew the rules
I felt like this made SENSE

Ironically the less safe I actually WAS, with money, the more safe I FELT, because this –

This was a world I knew how to live in.

This was a world I knew how to show up in.

This was a world I could keep on gettin’ up for, gettin’ through the day for, go to bed at night for, somehow measure my PROGRESS with, too.

And really –

If it was all about purpose –

If it was all about passion –

If it was all about flow –

THEN WHAT?

Then what?

Then fucking what?!

Well, I suppose THEN what is that eventually I woke up.

That’s all.

I saw it for what it was.

That’s all.

And I got tired of my success being a measure of my income, or other such obvious things.

But most of all I acknowledged –

That the only thing which would fill me up
Heal this hole inside of me
Allow me to feel SAFE … at peace … and sure that I was okay …
Was the very thing I’d been running from and refusing to make it about

For most of my twenties, I made it about my body

If I looked a certain way, I was safe, I was enough, I was cool, I was WINNING

But,
it never worked
And behind the scenes
I binged and binged and binged and cryed

Desperate to fill that hole

Not seeing what was available to me the entire time, right in front of me, if I would just say yes, to do so

For most of my thirties, really, I made it about business, and money

If I made a certain amount of money, if I had the markers of success, if the industry approved of me and agreed that yes – I’m a leader and a badass, then I was safe. I was enough. I was cool. I was WINNING.

But,

It didn’t work.

Money cycled up and down.
I went from highs to lows, and couldn’t figure out why.
And every time I THOUGHT I was getting ahead, I ended up crashing back down again, back to where once again –
I had to run to keep up.

Behind the scenes I was so frustrated that why after ALL THIS TIME did I still not have my SHIT together.

The silly thing was, I DID see, what was available to me the entire time, right in front of me, I KNEW at this point that it was PURPOSE PURPOSE PURPOSE, or nothing.

Sometimes people ask me –

“Kat, why did you stay for so long in such an unhappy marriage?”

And I answer –

“Well, I guess I really needed to learn that lesson quite a few times over. And eventually?

I learned it”

And so here we are.

Remember –

Life is Now. Press Fucking Play.

Kat

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