Parenting our money in the service of our kids

A recent post about money drew the following comment:

“I was hoping for a post on how to get real with kids about money.

I don’t want my girls to hate money or covet it, either. I want them to have a healthy relationship with money, so I was hoping for a post that dealt more concretely with that issue

It was ironic, too, because I have a single mom friend that just got a speeding ticket that wipes away any chance of her being able to get her kids any presents for Xmas this year. It’s all well and good to say that the holidays are not about money, but why don’t her kids deserve presents, too?”

This reader also acknowledges the very human error of running up credit card debt because it can be frustrating to go without, as well as the dilemma of being well-off enough not to qualify for any sort of government assistance, coupled with deadbeat exes who fail to pay their share, which all adds up to parents, particularly single parents, running like hamsters on a wheel—working hard and never really getting anywhere.

Given that I’m happier than I am rich, I’m more qualified to offer psychological insights than financial ones, but in the service of better parenting I’ll suggest a few things to think about with regard to money.

Firstly, money is highly political, and we must be more conscious about money if we are to solve our economic problems—individually and collectively.  George Bataille said that the ultimate consequence of capitalism is over-production of goods, and the ultimate consequence of this (i.e. a lot of stuff no one can afford to buy) is war.  The Great Depression was actually solved by World War II, and our current situation on Wall Street is not disconnected from Iraq and Afghanistan.

As an overall approach to helping our kids learn to neither idealize nor devalue money, our best parenting strategy is to come into balance and harmony with money in our own right.  This is a great challenge, but we teach more persuasively by modeling than by lecturing; it won’t due to attempt to conceal our money anxiety, we must actually get beyond it.

While no one would argue that our world is fair, concrete help is not going to be found in trying to overhaul our culture.  Therefore our first stop is an examination of what might be in our way, psychologically speaking, regarding money.

For example, one might carry a sweeping notion that people with a lot of money are bad, greedy or corrupt.  This is as unfair and distorted as arguing that the poor are virtuous.  Yet it is not uncommon for those who have struggled with say wealthy and controlling parents, or who had parents who felt resentful of “the man,” to carry negative ideas about wealth, and therefore an unconscious wish to avoid money (while consciously longing for it).

Another variation I have seen with some frequency, particularly with economically driven men, is the unconscious wish to be taken care of and babied, that gets expressed in unconscious behaviors that lead to losing all their money.  Think about it, a man can’t walk into a bar and cry about how sad he is about his feelings, but he can walk in and say that he’s lost all his money and get the comfort of others while maintaining a masculine persona.  Being broke is a socially acceptable masculine way of saying, “I’m helpless and scared.”  Of course it is actually a poor strategy for getting love, and men and women alike can be vulnerable to re-enacting a childhood of anxious or angry dependency through pervasive money troubles.

Another psychological flaw in economic thinking is the pervasive fantasy of sudden wealth, such as hoping for a lotto win.  The person buys that ticket and takes solace in imagining all economic pressures removed, and the problem is that such thinking breeds passivity.  Not buying the lotto ticket is a way of acknowledging that no magical deus ex machina is going to rescue us, and this empowers us to get to work and change our situations.  Variations on these fantasies include the idea that we will sell a screenplay for big bucks, or find an amazing stock that goes through the roof—the sort of thinking that avoids the actual key to success:  hard work at endeavors that have a reasonably likely chance of paying us.

Another great problem around money is the grown-up who still relies on parents for money, but at a trickle sort of level that is disempowering and fraught with control issues—mom and dad seem to perpetually save the day, but never release enough to free you.  This can be about controlling parents who maintain closeness with kids via the meager, and shame-infused dispensing of rescue amounts where the overall dynamic is of fostering dependency rather than true independence.

A good litmus test on this is to ask ourselves if there are things we might be tempted to tell our parents, but do not say for fear of being cut-off economically or disinherited.  That secret credit card paid by mom, just for emergencies, ties one’s hands behind one’s back.  If this topic hits a nerve, give it some thought as the couple of hundred bucks you get from your parents may cost you thousands in individuation. If you have a sizable trust fund, this can bring another set of issues, but this post is about those who really feel the pinch of barely getting by.

Kids cost a lot of money, but they are also great motivators and we may feel empowered to ask for more money and to be a little more assertive in the world when the reason is not just because we personally want the money, but because we want to provide for our children.

Finally, at least for today, it is important to understand the difference between income and assets. 

Once upon a time I was utterly broke and puzzling over money and questions of why the universe seemed to block my every attempt to break out and make some real money.  The final straw on this was when I got my big screenwriting break, writing an action movie for Andy Garcia and being paid… only to have the financier of the movie end up crushed to death by an avalanche while skiing in Germany.  Of course I recognize that this was much worse luck for the producer than for me, but it marked the end of my screenwriting days as I took it as a message that this way was not open for me.

In any event, around this time I was in a bookstore and decided to walk down an aisle with my eyes closed and buy whatever book my hand randomly landed upon.  It turned out to be Rich Dad, Poor Dad: What the Rich Teach Their Kids About Money–That the Poor and Middle Class Do Not!, by Robert Kiyosaki and Sharon Lechter, which was very useful in explaining key lessons rich people grow up absorbing by osmosis:  assets are holdings, like interest bearing accounts, that generate money passively; income, on the other hand, means you have to be working in order to be earning.  Most people think being rich means having a high paying job, yet the author explains that being rich means having enough money so that the interest you earn can support your lifestyle.  That is the mark of economic freedom.  The more modest of a lifestyle you can accept, the lower the bar on economic freedom, but no matter where you define wealthy, most of us who struggle with money can benefit from a radical rethink on what’s wrong and what it might take to adjust it.

While this may not really feel like “concrete” help, if you can choose the number, be it a few thousand or many millions, that you would say is truly enough—the amount where the interest generated would support the lifestyle you want to live—you take a key step toward being rich (as defined by yourself).  Gandhi died with his only possessions being a bowl, some sandals and his eyeglasses.  Most of us are not so non-materialistic, but even if you need x-millions, if you choose a number and make a covenant that if you were to get any more than that you would give it away, you paradoxically shift from a colander mentality to a bowl

Our cups cannot runneth over if they are full of holes, nor can they spill over if the rim is an infinite and ever-rising lip.

Just as a bowl is our very first, and most important psychological tool (see bowl and the colander: http://tiny.cc/E6Hsn), an upper limit on our money is like crafting a virtual economic vessel into which our wealth can flow, and feel abundant long before we reach our limit.  Just as in parenting, where limits must balance love, in money some limit must be formed in order to lovingly invite our money to stick around rather than run right through our lives.

Next, if you have any assets at all, build on them; and if you have none, begin to save (even just a token dollar in an envelope).  We must never devalue the small, as this is a cardinal error in remaining poor; some people have nothing but save every penny and one day buy a house while others figure that since they have nothing there is no point to saving and they might as well spend the little they have on transient things.  I place no judgment on this, but if you are sick of feeling like you have nothing, put a dollar in an envelope and admit that even if it’s not much, you do haves something.  Another good psychological thing to do when you feel broke is to give a modest amount to charity, say five dollars.  The message reflected back to your psyche that you do have something, enough to give to others, is worth more to your economic healing than say a five-dollar trip to Starbucks.

The difference between depression and ambition is that in depression you don’t believe you can actually have what you want yet presently lack, so you don’t bother getting out of bed.  With ambition, arguably the opposite of depression, you take a hard look at the difference between what you have and what you want and start taking the small steps toward your goal.  With ambition you directly acknowledge and face what you lack and strive toward it, doggedly and in full contact with your frustration.

By the way, if you quit some of your small vices and divert that money toward developing even modest assets, you will see money accumulate and your sense of impoverishment diminish, this eventually becomes a self-reinforcing pattern. Alcohol and cigarettes are expensive, so are too many clothes we don’t need, likewise going to the movies, particularly when they suck, can be less than worth it—and even if you go, you can save five bucks by not having popcorn.  Start to set these little sums aside and notice if you feel any differently over a span of weeks and months.

Sometimes our personal crucible comes from the conflict between what we consciously want—what we dream of being paid for, and what the universe turns out to be willing to pay us for. 

It was somewhat hard for me to give up my film non-career, never entirely sure if the big breakthrough could have been just around the corner; yet when I realized that I needed to provide for my kids, and was willing to do whatever it took, it did feel as if the universe opened up and led me along—an initial plunge into huge student loans and even more deprivation, and then a slow climb out through meager salaries and, over close to twenty years, a decent living that I’m more than grateful to be able to earn. 

As a young man, the modest life I now lead would have looked like a pathetic settling, even a loser’s outcome; but the young man I was looks to me now more like an insecure and over-compensating boy who wanted to just feel engaged, safe and like a part of things and thought that you needed to “make it big” to achieve this feeling.  Trust me, I know what it feels like to cry over the bills and be unable to sleep; I know what it’s like to face one’s tearful partner who just can’t stand living like this anymore and to feel helpless shame and rage, seemingly unable at the time to change things.  Sometimes change is necessary, and sometimes pain and frustration is what it takes to kick us in the ass and force us to adjust to what is wanted for us.  Nevertheless, as a once-starving artist, I have realized that if one is an artist in one’s soul, one can be an artist as a parent, as a psychologist or as a cab driver. 

So, let’s dedicate today to making whatever steps we can toward economic security and a feeling of gratitude and abundance.  By transitioning from anger and blame, whether inward or outward, toward compassion and trust we open our hearts to guidance from within and without.  If the universe, for whatever random reason or non-reason, wants us to suffer deprivation, we have the right to ask it, “What’s up with that?”  And we also have the right to ask for courage in facing it, but if we encounter our lives as they are, fully embracing even our frustration and poverty as teachers of something, perhaps we will master whatever lessons are on our plates at the moment and, in turn, free ourselves from our stuckness—which, hopefully, will ultimately benefit all our collective children.

Namaste, Bruce