Expanding my idea of wealth

Trusting in abundance and in each other

When I was pregnant with our first child, one of the many things I worried about was how we would or could afford a family. It was difficult to imagine, given our fluctuating incomes, as two self-employed musicians, how we would ever have enough in our bank accounts to pay for everything needed: clothing, bedding, furniture, gadgets, daycare, babysitters, food. We weren’t wealthy. How could we possibly get everything we need?

Shortly into our journey as parents, I started to realize my definition of wealth was distorted. It wasn’t just the number in my account and the ability to solely pay for every need or want from the money I traded my time and work for. Wealth included having time not dictated by someone else, it included community, gifts, sharing, supporting. It took parenthood for me to realize just how incredibly wealthy I was and am.

Family and friends bringing meals for weeks after I gave birth, purchasing gifts from our registry, donating to our parental leave fund, sending boxes and boxes of gently used or almost like new hand me downs, offering to watch the baby for free so Aaron and I could get a little work done, have a short break or go out to dinner just the two of us. My idea of wealth expanded even more when I realized we weren’t just on the receiving end of acts of charity but part of a communal economy which I then would be able to participate in by giving to others as well: passing on those boxes of baby clothing we no longer needed, cooking lasagnas to take to friends who just had a baby themselves, sending Venmos of cash to friends who live far away, experiencing a challenging time, encouraging them to get a babysitter if they can, sending take out to a friends house. It heightened my awareness of the importance of passing on the care I received because I learned how deeply impactful even the seemingly smallest token of kindness can be.

With this realization and shift in mindset, it can still be so easy to get caught up in thinking I need and want more, more, more. Societally, we are taught to admire the big houses, the extravagances, the hip neighborhoods, the fancy clothing, the billionaires. I open my phone and I have endless advertisements for face creams, clothing, homewares that convince me if I buy them, my life, my body, my self will feel better. I continually have to check myself when I get emotionally attached to money and accumulation equating my sense of wealth.

In these days leading up to bringing another child into the world, I’ve been intentionally attempting to recenter in my own definition of wealth. I’m a few days past my due date, have continually felt worse in a pregnancy where I never felt particularly well and have found myself stressing about the work I’ve canceled, the time that’s going by without the baby here without working, how I need to get back to work to bring in more money instead of spending money on my wellbeing to help myself feel well and strong enough to birth this child. Everything is framed by this idea of needing more, based in this idea of scarcity, this idea that we’re on our own. It’s overshadowing a monumental and beautiful time in life to create space and prioritize my body, my loved ones, my home.

But I recently had a moment when I realized, I could choose to look at this differently. What if I thought, what a luxury I have to be able to take this time as I need it to nurture my body and create a welcoming environment for our new baby boy? What a luxury I have that some of my work is something I do from my own home, coaching on zoom, recording, when I want, with a baby wrapped on my body if need be, without a boss telling me I need to come back to work and be away from them for 8+ hours a day? What a luxury I have that I already have evidence of the beautiful supportive community I know is around me and will hold us up through this time? What a luxury I have that I have a home, not in danger of being engulfed by flames, filled with love and space, items from my family and friends that make me think of them and my ancestry, that hold meaning and emotional value. What immense wealth I have to have a refrigerator and cabinets full of good, healthy food to cook and share.

What if I thought, wow how wealthy I am not because my bank account has a large number and I can purchase anything I need or want but because of the people around me, the safety I feel, the warmth, the support, the time I have and the abundance I see all around? What if I expanded my idea of what wealth means to me?

I often ask my songwriting students to write about this, giving them the prompt: “How can I expand my idea of wealth?” There might be a question of how it’s connected to a songwriting or creative practice but for me, it always proves itself in what they write about. Our general societal definition of wealth, as the Oxford dictionary defines it: an abundance of valuable possessions or money can very directly prohibit or limit our value or priority system. Time to create, to love, to be in community, to share can all come long after our priority to make money because yes, we need to, but how much is enough? At what point do we start to value self-sufficiency, hyper individualism, capital, achievement over creativity, gifts and sharing without even realizing it?

I just read this beautiful book my mother in law gifted me, The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World by Robin Wall Kimmerer, the author of Braiding Sweetgrass. It’s a book I want to re-read weekly to keep myself centered in where I want to hold my attention, modeling after nature’s interconnectedness rather than societal’s trend of individualism and accumulation.

My daughter saw me reading it the other night and she asked me to read her “some words from the book.”

I picked out this passage:

“Conceiving of something as a gift changes your relationship to it in a profound way, even though the physical makeup of the “thing” has not changed. A woolly knit hat that you purchase at the store will keep you warm regardless of its origins, but if it was hand-knit by your favorite auntie, then you are in relationship to that “thing” in a very different way: you are responsible for it, and your gratitude has motive force in the world. You’re likely to take much better care of the gift hat than of the commodity hat, because the gift hat is knit of relationships. This is the power of gift thinking.”

She’s only 3.5 so I rephrased it after reading to explain further to her,

“So for instance Georgia, you know how we always talk about your things that have been given to you? Like your Mateo jacket, your love pillow from Ms. Molly, your cozy pjs from Mama Mama and Papa, your favorite sparkly dresses from Nora and Shannon, your story books from Lita and Grampy, or your favorite blankie that goes everywhere with you from Peepee and Nancy?”

She nodded while sucking her thumb, cozying into me wrapped up in her unicorn hooded towel, just out of the bath.

I continued on,

“Do you feel like you treasure those things even more because it makes you feel loving and connected to the people who gave them to you? You think of them even more often?”

She nodded again, “Yea!” she added with enthusiasm.

“Mama, now tell me a funny funny little pig story, please.”

The moment passed quickly but I felt the impact whether she understood or not. It was yet another reminder to myself to keep my attention on the values I want to center for myself and raise my children with.

I’ll leave you with these two other passages from this beautiful book.

“The Serviceberries show us another model, one based upon reciprocity rather than accumulation, where wealth and security come from the quality of our relationships, not from the illusion of self-sufficiency. Without gift relationships with bees and birds, the Serviceberries would disappear from the planet. Even if they hoarded abundance, perching atop the wealth ladder, they would not save themselves from the fate of extinction if their partners did not share in their abundance. Hoarding won’t save us either. All flourishing is mutual.”

“Intentional communities of mutual self-reliance and reciprocity are the wave of the future, and their currency is sharing. The move toward a local food economy is not just about freshness and food miles and carbon footprints and soil organic matter. It’s about all of those things, but it’s also about the deep human desire for connection, for honor, to be in reciprocity with the gifts that are given you.

The real human needs that such arrangements address are exactly what we long for yet cannot ever purchase: being valued for your own unique gifts, earning the regard of your neighbors for the quality of your character, not the quantity of your possessions; what you give, not what you have.“

Wishing you all love, kindness, gifts and sharing at the beginning of this new year, and new era.

Thank you for your reciprocity and the gift of your readership here.

Curious….how do you define wealth for yourself and how has it changed or expanded at times?

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As always, these essays are written quickly, from the heart, without an editor. Please excuse any typos, misspelled words or grammatical errors. I appreciate your readership, subscriptions (paid and unpaid), sharing, and your responses. xo M