Why we scrimp on support
Here's something I've noticed about our mental accounting:
it weighs expenses much more heavily than possibilities,
and tries to convince us the wisest thing to do is scrimp.
So, for example, if you're considering hiring an assistant:
it's easy to imagine the monthly debit for their salary (yikes!), and
it's easy to imagine the time and effort it will take to orient them (UGH).
It is not so easy to imagine the surge of time and energy you'll have when you're better supported,
and not so easy to imagine your assistant will do things way better than you,
and not so easy to imagine how all that will support your personal and financial growth.
Or - perhaps - if you're considering investing in a coach:
it's easy to imagine the money leaving your bank account,
or adding to your credit card balance,
and how scary that will feel.
It is not so easy to imagine yourself being who you most want to be,
and how powerful, how fulfilled, how solidly integrous you will feel,
and what confidence, and ease, and MONEY will flow in as a result.
(It a l w a y s happens for me,
and it happens for my clients, too.
They create new revenue streams, get promotions and bonuses, raise their prices, and are generally swimming in new opportunities.
Ask Kaeli, Yetta, Nicole, Emma, Cathy, Rosalind, Patty, Susan, Natalie, Bonnie, Jacqueline, Rachel, and half a dozen people whose names you know that I can't mention here.)
Anyway.
When our tendency to weigh risk more heavily than reward
combines with the cultural values of rugged individualism, frugality, and putting ourselves last,
we tend to choose not to invest in support.
And perhaps this is the thing our minds are the very least good at accounting for:
the exhausting, disheartening cost of scrimping on support,
discounting the power of being all of who we are,
and forcing ourselves to go it alone.
Natalie
You are an excellent investment.
Show yourself.
love,
Natalie