I feel contracted about money right now because the situation with one of my highest-paying clients is in flux. Not only that, I’m spending a lot of money all at once for this upcoming Australia trip. I didn’t know what I was signing myself up for, honestly, because I booked the ticket semi-impulsively. My response is wanting to hoard money like a dragon sitting on her riches. “Amass all the wealth! Spend none of it!” In other words, it’s a good time to remind myself of a concept I learned almost exactly three years ago: “It’s not your money.”
We’ve been socially conditioned to believe it’s our money, our house, our bodies, our whatever, but nothing is truly “ours” in a permanent way. We’re caretakers for right now and that’s it. If the concept doesn’t resonate with you, that’s fine, but I find it helpful to remember everything belongs to the divine beloved because it helps me feel more relaxed.
Whenever I think something is “mine,” I start grasping, controlling, and getting overwhelmed. If I think money is mine, I start freaking out when I spend it, want to stockpile it when I receive it, and worry about how to get more. I start wondering if I spent too much on the plane ticket, if I chose the wrong hotel, and maybe I should cancel this once-in-a-lifetime experience to stay home instead. It’s not fun and it’s also no way to live. Life is about giving and receiving. Not only receiving.
The solution to the fear I’m feeling comes down to faith. Faith is not rational, scientific, or evidence-based. Faith is the opposite of all those things. It’s belief without proof. That’s not just my definition; the dictionary defines faith in the same way. That means I have to actively, consciously, choose to believe I’ll be OK financially speaking. That money will continue to flow in and out of my life and furthermore, it’s not mine to control anyway.
I’m reminded of a Sanskrit phrase for meditation, Iishvara prańidhána, or seeking shelter in the Supreme. My spiritual teacher says, “Iishvara prańidhána also implies implicit faith in [the divine] irrespective of whether one lives in momentary happiness or sorrow, prosperity or adversity.”
Essentially, that means letting your life belong to love, to quote Tosha Silver, the author of the book It’s Not Your Money. It means letting go of control and recognizing there is a divine presence here, at this moment, in every moment. It means remembering a loving force moves through me and you. Furthermore, I can consciously invite that loving force into my life. It means saying, “Hey God/higher power/universe, I want you to take care of this. Please guide my actions. I trust where you are leading me,” and then letting go, knowing whatever needs to come, comes, and whatever needs to go, goes.
It’s not easy by any means but neither is the alternative. I’d rather feel happy, joyous, and free than sad, depressed, and imprisoned. For me, that means trusting and surrendering.
I dream of a world where we remember nothing in this universe is truly “ours.” A world where we recognize there is a power and presence that’s in charge. A world where we put our trust in something greater than ourselves. A world where we’re able to surrender and let go of our micromanaging tendencies and fully trust all true needs will be met, and often in amazing and wonderful ways. A world where we understand it’s not our money.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.