Most people have a plan A.
That’s when you are making the money you want to make, you have everything you need, and the money for more than what you need.

Sweeeeet!

Things are going as planned.

You may have a plan B.
You have a savings account and some retirement savings.
You have that collection of old Barbies that must be worth something… hmmm.
And there’s always credit cards, of course.

You may even have a plan C.
A and B haven’t worked out, but you have close family and reliable friends who you can tap into for emergency funds.
And how much is plasma going for these days?
Phew!

But what about plan Z?
What about when things go completely wonky?

Having to go to plan Z is what worries most women underneath the daily busyness.

My plan Z fears involves deep debt, I have lost my car, and my business is in ruins.

But at least I have plenty of time to meditate and coach myself because I’m not working.

What would I do?
I would get a job.
I would camp if needed.
I would use the library.
I would simplify my life.
And I would help other people less fortunate.

Would plan Z actually be needed?
Almost certainly not.
I have safeguards in place.

But I’m ready if it happens.
I have thought about the worst case scenario and that alone makes it less scary than if I left plan Z in the fuzzy area of the periphery of my mind where scary things normally live.
Plus, even more importantly…

If plan Z is needed, I can handle it.

It would probably really suck, but I could survive.
And there’s a chance I would actually thrive.
There is something to be said for dropping all of the extra stuff and expectations and becoming a river raft guide.

What is your plan Z?

It’s the cross stitch pictured above.

“A wife can throw out more with a teaspoon than a husband can bring home with a wheelbarrow.”

It’s true.

That’s what makes it so insidious.

But just because it’s true doesn’t mean it’s the slogan I should use to lead my life.

Just because my parents believed it doesn’t mean I have to.

There is scarcity.
Lock down tight on any spending.
There is danger of it all getting away from you without you even knowing it.

That’s the writing on the wall in my parent’s house.
Literally.

Those are the messages that underlay everything my parents taught me.

It seemed so smart and safe.

But now that I see it’s based on fear I can decide that its not serving me.

I can choose to change my belief.

I can believe that scarcity attracts scarcity and abundance attracts abundance.

Because I do believe that.

Now that I see what I believe I am free to change it.

And little changes create big shifts.

My furnace broke.

My car broke and the repair was more than the value of the car.

The tree in the backyard needed to come down or risk killing my family. (To the tune of $8,000.)

My daughter needed a specialist at $10,000. (Not covered by insurance, of course.)

My property tax was set to go up 88%.

Two hurricanes revealed that I need repairs on my expensive slate roof. (Over, gulp, $10,000.)

And I decided not to take it out on the small businessmen.

In the past I would have visibly shown my fear.

As the arborist told me the number to take down my favorite tree, I would have flinched when he told me it was going to cost me $8,000.

OK, more than flinched.

I would have taken some deep breaths, picked up my chin from the ground and said I needed to figure out if I could do it.

If I could afford it.

Underneath I used to have the thought that these guys were trying to gouge me.

There are no printed prices for services like these, so it always seems like they are coming up with the highest price they think they can get away with.

And I live in an elite zip code.

In my early adulthood people had taken pity on me when I bought my first house and was fixing it up on my own.  Men who were extremely kind to me worked out a trade or found a way to give me a discount.

One man even lent me his truck for the weekend so I could haul away the old roof.

No strings attached.

These were true acts of kindness.

But I used them as evidence that I couldn’t afford it and I needed help.

“I can’t afford this.”

That doesn’t sound bad.
That might even sound good and protective.

Although it was exactly the opposite.

After all, I’m not carelessly spending.
I wasn’t going to buy trinkets and bonbons without thinking it through.

But here is what my freaking out and grimacing does to the businessman:

It makes talking about money feel bad.

These businessmen and women are trying to run a business and make a living for their family.

They are telling me what it will cost for their services.

And when they feel uncomfortable with my reaction and discount their services, theyaren’t feeling abundant and at the top of their game.

Somewhere underneath they are feeling gouged.
Huh.

Sort of full circle, isn’t it?

It doesn’t feel good when I am upset about these costs.
I’m sure they don’t feel good when I am acting robbed and attacked.

So I decided to change things.

Here is what I did about all of these unexpected expenses…

I did a little research ahead of time so I wasn’t expecting a price that was a lot lower than was realistic.

Then, I decided to not have a reaction in front of the man who was telling me the price. 

I didn’t look in pain.  
But also, I didn’t look cavalier… like I didn’t care.  That wasn’t the truth either.

I decided to look neutral… matter of fact.

To accomplish that look successfully, I examined my thoughtsabout all of these unexpected expenses and decided to focus on the ones that felt abundant.

I felt justified to feel freaked out. 

But I didn’t chooseto feel freaked out.
I didn’t focus on freaked out.

I chose to think that I have many resourcesto pay for these things I wanted.

I want to have a furnace that works.

I am gratefulfor a furnace that works.

I WANT to payfor someone to fix my furnace. I was really hot.  Over 100 degrees. (It was the part of the furnace that runs the A/C.)

I am grateful that I have enough knowledgeabout trees to have this grand one taken down at the end of its life and not risk my family’s lives. 

It’s a really big tree. It could get us all in one fall.

I am grateful for the running waterto take a bath.
I am grateful for the fact that we have indoor plumbing.  An outhouse would be a bummer.

I am most grateful that I have done my emotional money work ahead of time, 
and I don’t feel deprived when I save for these types of emergencies.

I am thankful for this incredible work I do and the ability to feel calm and abundant in the face of mounting bills.

I could be justified to feel incredibly upset.
I could even think that it might help to bring the price down if I show that I am shaken up by the price.
But I choose to think of what brings me peace while running my life.

I choose to act in a way that I would want to be treated as an independent businesswoman.

That keeps me in my integrity.
And that feels good.

I know I won’t always be successful at hiding my sticker shock, but happily I’m a constant work in progress.