Connie Jakab

My son earned $26 for a reading program he finished.   He has never received that much money at one time.  When given the money, I was going to teach him about what to do with his new found riches using the 3 jars:  The spending jar, The saving jar, and the donation jar.

I didn’t know how he was going to respond.  At first I thought, “Maybe I’ll just explain it to  him first and THEN tape it”, but I really wanted to capture whatever reaction he would give.  That left me feeling pretty vulnerable as I hit “record” on the camera.  After all, I’m a culture rebel, so he has to be too, right?  haha

More than ever, we need to train our children in good money management that is void of entitlement but full of a heart to give, smarts to save for the future, and balance with indulgence.  After all, life is to be enjoyed!  They need to know that having nice things isn’t wrong if money is managed well and there’s always a willingness to share what’s been given with those in need.

So here it is, raw and unedited.  At 5 years old, I can only pray he starts a foundation of learning what it means to be generous, disciplined to save and not spend all the rest in one place…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4BBLu0Nfdso

We often say; “I wish parenting had a manual”.   Well, I think I may have found the closest thing to it!  Before I share it, let me take you through a couple of current scenes  around our house;

Scene: we’re at the mall and my son doesn’t get his way, so he responds with arms crossed, and saying; “That’s it, I’m just not going to love you anymore.  I’m going to run away from home”.

Scene: at the dollar store buying items for his birthday party loot bags and my son asks; “Can we buy a toy?”.  I reply by saying he already got his birthday presents.  For his response, see scene above…..

As of late, a whole chapter on similar scenes can be written.  “Where did he get this from??”, I ask myself.  I felt numb, wondering if every Christmas and birthday (and every other day of the year!) would be filled with ME ME ME, MINE MINE MINE!!  I wondered where we’ve gone wrong??  We’re a pretty modest family, fighting consumerism, giving our sons learning opportunities about those less fortunate, and our mission on earth.  So where is this sense of entitlement coming from?!

Then I ran into this book; “The Entitlement-Free Child” while reading Jennifer Grant’s book, “Love You More”.   It only took me seconds to get onto amazon and it was ordered.  I dove right in when it came in the mail!  One of the first things I read in the book stated:

“The entitlement child gets everything he asks for…. now.  He can’t wait.  A parent saying no doesn’t mean no; it means “Maybe, if you keep bugging me” or “I don’t really want to, but….”  The entitlement child doesn’t accept “enough” because he’s afraid he might miss out on “more”.  Driven by immediate gratification, the entitlement child gets what he wants; he just doesn’t get what he needs.  He gets what he wants today but is unsatisfied tomorrow.  His happiness is temporal and conditional.”

“The entitlement free child on the other hand, gets much more.  He trusts that his needs will be met, because he has learned that he can count on other people today and tomorrow.  Life is ok even when he is frustrated, confused or upset.  He has skills.  The entitlement free child learns to see things from another’s point of view, accept limits from others, and delay personal gratification, and he can handle age-appropriate problems.”

“Wow! Where do I get me one of those?”, I thought!   Jokes aside, I longed for my son to adopt these beautiful traits of an entitlement-free child.  I wrestled for a whole day with these questions burning in the back of my mind.  Then it all came clear to me where he may have learned this from…..

till it hit:   I’m an entitlement child trying to raise an entitlement-free child!!

Talk about eating humble pie.   In order to see my son’s behavior change, I’VE got to change.  He’s just following my lead.   Needless to say, I have a whole new outlook on our daily outtings.   Are they feeding my cravings?  Are they to indulge mommy?  Needless to say, I’ve starving my flesh and my wants this past while so I can pass on something greater to my boys than what I’ve been giving.

Our Generation: we dig a deep, dark, debt hole to purchase the lifestyle we can’t afford but feel entitled to… and we’re raising our kids to follow in our footsteps.  It’s time to rebel and create a better future for all.

Pick up the book.  It’s a close to the manual we all long for.

The Entitlement Child by Karen Deerwester.  “Raising confident and responsible kids in a ‘Me, Mine, Now!’ Culture”

http://www.amazon.com/Entitlement-Free-Child-Raising-Confident-Responsible/dp/140221510X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1315236362&sr=8-1

I love facebook.  I’m able to connect with friends who live far away and feel like I live right next door.  I’ve been able to meet up with friends way back even from elementary school!   I can post photo’s of my kids and friends, no matter where they are,  can watch them grow up.   I can daily check in with all my buddies, see how their day is going based on their status, and follow up accordingly.

And what an amazing friend I am now thanks to facebook reminding me who’s birthday it is today!  Facebook has become my main source of communication and networking.   From a friend I have in Australia to my neighbour right across the street.   Not to mention, the networking potential now seems unlimited!

Some have called it “crack-book” – some mock what a time waster it is.  Moms call it a “life-saver” (isn’t that right fellow momma’s?!).  Its a connection to the outside world when it snows and you’re shut in.   It’s a way to feel a part of people’s lives when life is just too busy to be able to have a visit or even a decent phone call.  It’s a way to touch base quickly when you want to be available but just can’t be at the moment.

But there’s a problem with facebook…. its on the computer.  I don’t know about your computer, but mine’s temperamental.  His name is Mac.  Sometimes Mac gives me a lot of stimulation of incoming messages, comments on my status, a new friend request…. but other times Mac isn’t very interesting at all!  He gives me nothing AND keeps me coming back to him every 10 minutes hoping he’s got something for me.    God forbid if he ever decides to get sick.   He’d stop all lines of communication for me and honestly…. what would I possibly do then??

When Mac convinced me to join facebook I became a hard-core user fast!  (sounds like I need rehab!) I quickly connected with all sorts of people which fed my need for friendship.  I had just moved to Calgary and I loved how it kept me connected to my Vancouver family, yet also allowed me to get to know people here in Calgary who I was meeting.  However after using facebook for awhile I noticed I was feeling quite….. lonely.  Even though I was connecting digitally with a lot of people each day, loneliness was like a wave that had crashed over me.    Why was I feeling this when I was in contact with numerous people?  My friends list would never give the impression that I should be lonely.

I’ve found that Mac is deceitful.   He likes to team up with facebook to show me all the fun everyone is having.  He shows me pictures of people and the amazing places they’ve gone and the cool parties they went to.   At first I enjoy being able to see all the cool things people do but then I start to think about how dull my life is compared to theirs.

When Mac’s feeling really slanderous, he’ll even show me conversations my friends have had with each other on their walls.  Conversations of outings they went on…. without me.   Parties they had that I wasn’t invited to.  Mac shows me this so I can get insecure about where I stand with my friendships.   Close friends I thought I had, maybe they weren’t really?…..

Mac has not delivered the kind of encouragement we are created for.   The illusion that facebook gives is that even though I can feel so involved in people’s lives by seeing their status, knowing their birthday, seeing updated pics of their family – its a relationship that ends with a screen. At the end of the day, am I really in relationship with them?

Is facebook creating community or an appearance of community?

Many of us know how scary friendships can be to cultivate.  We choose to run than to face possible rejection with courage.  We fear people seeing the “real us” in fear that they will not accept our weakness.  In fear, we build ourself a fortress on an deserted island with walls no one could ever conquer….  and after we have build this all powerful shelter from the cruel world we feel…… alone.

How many live their lives in front of a computer screen only to feel more lonely every day?  How many feel insignificant and uninteresting after seeing all the amazing adventures others seem to be having on facebook?  How many remember how to use the phone? (and I’m not talking about texting…)  How many can bring themselves to ask someone to go for coffee?  How many are afraid of opening their hearts to others in fear that they will be rejected?

I’ve decided to put up some boundaries with my friend Mac. Even though I still use facebook as a way to connect and network,  I’ve chosen to invest in some friendships I’m cultivating through (gulp) phone calls and face to face visits – even going as far as using my home (messy as it is) as the place to connect.   When I invite people into my home, clean or unclean, I’m inviting them into my “world”.  I’m saying, “You are welcome in my  life”.   The amazing thing is that the loneliness and insecurity is disappearing!  And even though I’m scared spit-less of rejection, I’ve taken the leap to be so bold as to even ask a couple of gals to be my friend.  (does anyone DO that anymore?)

I’ve been finding some quality friendships….. beyond facebook.

This powerful, controversial spoken word was written by Levi Mayerle for the show, Something To Say.  The written version below is the edited version we used for the show.  If the “f” bomb doesn’t offend you, you can watch Levi on the screen with the link at the end.   This spoken word has many points to ponder.  I loved his blunt approach to this topic.  You’ve been warned.  It is not for the weak of heart.  I pray you hear his young adult heart crying out for the desperate change we need.

The average man; the ignorant homewrecker. The cleanliness of his cut, hair, suit family and job Yet he takes the title of a slut. A homewrecker, a mutt.

Taking our daughters, your daughters, to slaughter the virginity of the purest child.

And you! Covered in rust and bile, and I the same have never sinned mildly. I’ve wildly lived by the law of death and I’ve tiled the floor with the images of ten thousand breasts.

It’s the Sunday school boy looking down her dress. It’s the curious cat that killed the rest of us. Infecting the best of us. Feeding the chest that will swell to test the mess of the very most blessed of us.

But the rain falls on the evil and the good. The estates and the hood. The CEO and the janitor. The man that beats the woman he swears he loves and yet he claims he’s not mad at her.

We’re all mimicking the same mad hatter and its a mad tea party.  It’s dirty, wear your gloves. It’s the act that society can no longer call making love ‘cause it’s just cruel…

..that one person could simply be used as satisfactions tool, Our baggage mule.

But sex sells so they take a young girl by the hand and introduce her to her own personal hell.   It’s this “boys will be boys” mentality that has us beat. It’s the masculine disease feeding someone else’s security in being insecure.

And do I struggle with lust?  For sure.  And while its true that you’ll rarely find a man who doesn’t, it’s the way we struggle less and submit more to death’s covenant.

We become numb to consciences convictions devoid of lovers diction.  Convinced ourselves of fiction To ease the friction of our condition.  It may be a harsh depiction of a bleak and dark position.  But we’ve confused love with the erection; the act of sex with affection. Take a look at your reflection, you may detect a dying section, or clashing notes in your inflection.  Now, please, it’s time we begin dissection.

Because masturbation and lust are seeds which grow violently into the need for physical manifestation. But we just watch silently as sex diminishes to fast food and poison.  We eat it up, and “ba da ba ba ba” (Mcdonalds theme) they made a kids meal of it. But we don’t make a big deal of it.  We have kids watching porn before they even hit puberty. It was introduced to me at like 10 or 11 or something.

It’s just cheap pleasure, momentary measures to get through the minds rainy weather. It’s an endeavor that ends in loneliness and depression. Self loathing at your own concession.

Now, if we extrapolate the rate of degeneration we’ll soon be a nation who gets off on others blood, sweat, semen, and vaginal lubrication. Or are we already there? ‘Cause I see people laughing at ‘2 girls, 1 cup’, when that should really just make us want to throw up.  Isn’t our desensitization itself a sensation? I hope its one that makes us gag and shocks us back to consciousness.

I’ll end like this: Rise up oh, sleeper. Wake up you who are dead. Be gone oh, grim reaper.  It’s time our souls unite with freedom’s keeper.

The video:

https://vimeo.com/40914279

This powerful spoken word piece was written and performed by Greg Denie for the show, “Something To Say”.  Greg is the director of Legacy One – a hip hop crew based in Calgary. Check them out at http://legacyone.ca

Slavery is yet to be erased from our History.

If you don’t believe me, ask the 126 million children working in harmful situations all over the world.
Ask them what it’s like,
Sweat stinging their eyes,
Blurring their sight.
Or maybe you might,
Just take a second to see the bruses and the scars.
Left from the ashes of their owners cigar.
Burned into their skin.
Because of their failure to produce enough when,
The sun went down. And now the blunt end of a stick will be found.
Leaving it’s permanent mark.
On a child whose life’s journey has not even began to embark.

Slavery is yet to be erased from our history.
You don’t believe me.
Let me introduce you to a girl named shawna.
Born into a poor family.
Living in what we would call extreme poverty.
And it was at six years old that her mother had another baby.
Not able to afford the 25dollar doctor fee.
Shawna’s parents had no choice but to sell her into slavery.
Promising one day they would get her back.
Not realizing the weight they had just put on their daughters back.
Forced to sit 12 hours a day. Rolling cigeretts.
And if she failed to produce by the end of the day. There were going to be a conciquence. That she would soon regret.
I believe she is sitting there saying does no one love me yet.

Slavery is yet to be erased from our history.
If you don’t believe me.
Let me introduce to you to a boy named shakar.
Born in a land not to far.
Sold into bondage, forced to cut knots out of carpet.
And when the scissors would slip his eyes would wet.
And he would cry for his mommy, because don’t forget this kid is only a baby.
Wanting the soothing of his moms voice, to feel her touch.
To fall asleep in her arms.
But instead as blood dripped from his fingers.
His maste rwould take a match and grind it into his open cut.
And then strick a match and burn his fingers until the blood and flesh fused together.
And there will remain a scar forever.
But that scar goes beyond his finger tips.
It goes beyond every tear drop drips.
The cwivering of his lips.
It causeing the the clouding of his heart, call it an eclipse.
No longer able to know love. No longer able to show emotions.
So this Child, this baby, learns to just go through the motions.
Knows no love, no truth, no light.
Grows up with no reason to fight.

And I wish I could say slavery was a third world problem,
Like it didn’t effect us just them

But just like you I was born into a system of slavery
A consumer, born post baby boomer

Where I have been told I can make my imaginary becoeme my actuality
25,000 dollars debt on my credit, and that’s a normality
The slavery that has plagued my humanity
Some sold to produce, others enslaved because they can’t reduce
It’s a slavery of the soul,
A never ending hole
We just dig deeper and deeper and deeper
Hopingn we will sooner see the grim reaper
Than face the consequences of our actions because we can’t stop making transactions
Where we buy and buy but never really get buy
And the work and work, but really never know true worth
Because we might be Canadian but we are chasing the American dream,
And it seems that dream was obscene
Shallow yet we all drown in this stream
Drowned by the pressures,
Drowned by the lies
And it’s time we realize this disguise
We say we want freedom but can’t really be freed from the slavery of the soul,
So you can look at shawna and Shankar and say what a travesty
But the reality is we are all chained to this thing called slavery

This monologue was written and performed by Angie Hung at the show, Something To Say.  She brings up some interesting questions.

“The Sweetest Girl”.   Good girls gone bad.

The song says: “She used to run track back in high school.
Now she tricks off the track right by school”,which means selling sex for drugs or money, and it happens everywhere.
Without being dramatic, some girls do believe in and live the life of “closed legs don’t get fed” (another quote from the song. ouch).
Before we assume that we or our children will never get this way, remember that all of these formerly sweet girls are someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, someone’s wife, someone’s mother.
There are girls and guys who grow up knowing that they can get a lot of material things just by using their bodies. How many of us have “dressed up or down” before meeting with our boss about a pay raise? How many girls have flirted just a little to get to the head of the line at that popular dance club? It happens here in Calgary.  Just go to club WEST on a Friday or Saturday night. The shorter the skirt, the less time you wait in line, guaranteed. It made me want to cut my skirt a lot shorter, and I don’t even wear skirts!
“Cash rules everything around me”.
We do jobs we kinda enjoy or make ourselves believe we enjoy, in order to retire so that we can finally afford to do the things we really want to do. A lot of us want to travel, but we need money to do that. We want to see shows, movies, get the latest ipad or 3D TV, and we’re willing to work all our lives to earn this money so that we can spend it on stuff. We spend hundreds of dollars each on home lotteries and additional laptops, but when we see a homeless or needy person on the street who asks for one dollar, we shake our heads saying we don’t have one dollar to give them, or we ignore the person altogether.

Cash rules everything around us, as long as it’s about us.
We should ask ourselves: What would we do if we were in a really desperate situation? If your child contracted an illness which required a $40,000 operation in 3 weeks, and you don’t have coverage from work, what would you do for those dollars? Your parents are getting older and won’t be able to take care of themselves. You want to put them in a good nursing home. How much money would you pay for this? How much money would you pay for the “perfect” wedding, the “perfect” house, the “perfect” family?

You’re 40 and men notice you all the time, but things are starting to sag. How are you going to stay on top? (yes, pun intended)  Not to worry, you can have cosmetic surgery for several thousand dollars.

How much money would you pay to get high, really high?
We all have our own personal things that we would pay lots of money for.  I would pay an obscene amount of money to be in the front row of certain concerts. What would you pay a lot of money for?
You can even pay for popularity now. On Facebook, there are companies who charge for services such as getting you a certain number of “likes” on your company page. I’m sure there are ways to pay to get more followers on Twitter, to make yourself look more liked. We’re putting value on ourselves.

How much cash value could you put on another human being?

Cash really does rule everything around us.

This story was read in the show Something To Say.   A story true for many who start a journey down the path of drug dealing just to avoid  realities of poverty.   My question is: where are the mothers, fathers, mentors, who will invest into a generation that so desperately needs our guidance to say, “There is another way.  Let me help you”.   We have failed them.  We need to fight and not give up on them, look past their “corruption” and bring life back into their very core.

He was a young man, full of dreams and aspirations.  But he grew up in a poor area with a single mom trying her best to support them.  Month to month they struggled just to eat.   He would go to school surrounded by name brands and fancy cars.  As he was shoved around for his “hand-me-down” look, he determined in his mind that he would not be poor forever.  Somehow, he would find a way to gain the respect of his peers, reach the potential he knew he had inside, and give his mom a life she could only hope for.

Days felt like years in his tormented world of lack.  He needed a way out of this hell, and fast.  One day, his answer came to him.  A buddy offered him a proposal he couldn’t refuse.  Imagine, $100,000 cash a month.  A month.  “All your problems solved.  You can have everything you’ve ever wanted.  Your family will be well taken care of.   No one will push you around – they’ll respect you.   You can buy the car of your dreams, get any girl you want….”

An offer too good to be true.  But with it, came a cost.

It was the day of his first deal.  Easy really.  Meet up on the corner of 15th and 5th, trade the “aunt nora” for the cash and done…. until he saw he was dealing to a 14 year old.  What’s a 14 year old doing buying coke?  This seemed so wrong, but he couldn’t “care”, let his emotions get involved.  He needed the money so he could take care of himself.  It wasn’t his fault this kid was going to mess up his life with drugs.

Fast forward to a dozen deals later, his heart grown colder with every trade.  Calloused, numb ….. the love of the almighty dollar forging its grip on his soul.  Showing up to school in his suped up BMW, he did gain the respect, success and popularity he always dreamed of.  He gave his mom the home and life they could have never imagined.   The dream was his.

But in the process, he lost his soul.

                                

We were blessed to have DJ Transform, DJCrosswalk and DJ Reflects do our pre-show AND give us live music to jam to for our dancer warm up before the show.

My dear friend, Harriet Stanley, provided  her amazing art for the backdrop of the show.

We started the evening with a question and one of my adidas jackets give-a-ways (don’t know about that? Read yesterday’s blog)

The first piece, Identity, choreographed by Jason Owin Galeos was performed by my Mpact Youth Company.  I was SO proud of them!

We often put our best “face” on social media when our lives could be crumbling.  Many issues of poverty can be invisible to society because we work hard to blend in.  Living in community (does anyone know what that means anymore?), and authenticity can do a world of good in helping combat issues of poverty.  It’s a callback to the simple “knowing your neighbor” and caring about them.

Next up was an old fav song of mine, Material Girl, choreographed by Tony Tran.

“Because You’re Worth It”, “American Express: Don’t Leave Home Without It”, “10 Best Dressed/Worst Dressed”… every day beauty and consumerism bombard our eyes and ears with its message: CHARGE IT!  When the world is crumbling, we’re called by governments to “go shopping”.  You need another pair of shoes. Sure you do.  Strut your stuff.  Get sexy.  Date rich men.  Climb the social ladder.  Who’s a pretty girl? You are. Do anything you can to stay that way.  As long as you stay focused on the prize (yourself), you won’t need to be bothered with the needs and inconveniences of others.

The crowd got hyped (and with a special extra surprise on Saturday evening) with, Let It Rock, choreographed by Oliver Reyes.

What would you do for money?  Just to survive?  Just to appear rich?  It would depend on what you define as “corrupt”.  Would it be worth gaining the whole world only to lose your soul?   Greed and corruption continue to pull us to depths we could have never dreamed. Time to bring the fire that makes us come alive.  “I see your dirty face hide behind your collar.  You pray to God to justify the way you live a lie….I wish I could be as cruel as you.  But I can’t and I won’t live a lie.  No not this time.” – Kevin Rudolph

Sweetest Girl was performed and choreographed by Sabrina Naz.   She did a brilliant job of depicting a strippers lifestyle in a lady-like manner.

How many women who find themselves in situations of poverty end up stripping for a living to earn enough money to support their family?  Or how many find themselves  manipulated and trapped into this lifestyle; told they could never amount to anything else?  How many women use their body as a tool to gain more power, more money and what they believe to be “control”?  “Some live for the bill. She wined for the bill, grind for the bill.  Closed legs don’t get fed, go out there and make my bread because all he wanna know is; Where My Money At.  Cash rules everything around me.  She used to be the sweetest girl.. – Wyclef Jean

We had some amazing special guests, Dikaios, who performed three pieces from a full length show they do on human trafficking.

Their pieces were raw, shocking and very moving to the audience.    What would we do for money? Sell someone?  Cycles of poverty are affected by waves of corruption.

Walk Alone  was a solo choreographed and performed by the amazing Corinne Vessey

Trapped, no shield, no sword. The unbeaten path got my soul so sore.  Allured by the lust, something money can’t cure. The Devil want me as is, but God he want more.  Living life without a care, mean pokerface.  But I’m forced to play solitaire till I get up out of here. Move like a wanted man with a bounty on his head. Work alone, sleep alone, eat alone, daily bread, Counting till my fingers red, how you gon’ judge a man walking in the shoes of a man with a broken leg?  Flame on the trail headed for the powder keg.  Last place in the race I ain’t never led, like I ain’t never bled, time to get up out of bed Serving in the army of one, it’s on again.  Walk alone, I walk alone, you know I walk it alone. I always been on my own, ever since the day I was born so I don’t mind walking alone.

But should anyone have to walk alone?..

One of my fav K-OS songs, Man I Used To Be, was choreographed by Corinne Vessey

“I used to be a father”, “I used to be a lawyer”, “I used to have a home”, “I used to have friends”.  People you pass on the street, people you work with, people sitting beside you right now all have “used to be’s”.  We’re more alike than we think – those living in wealth or situations of poverty find themselves yearning to get back to the man they used to be.

Poor Man was choreographed by Jason Owin Galeos and Connie Jakab,  featuring special guest, bboy Gomo Cabarroguis

“This is not who I am!”  Doesn’t this cry scream out from hearts of every social status, financial situation and race?  Does not the homeless man wish you to not judge his exterior and instead, see who he really is?  Does the college student just wish that someone could understand and accept them unconditionally?  Doesn’t the stay-at-home-mom want to be seen as someone educated and worth listening to?  Everyone wants to avoid judgment from what is seen on the outside.

Our finale, Something To Say, was choreographed by Nicole Pemberton

The brokenness some carry could really use someone to come alongside to believe in them.  All they may need from you is just to say, “You’re gonna make it.  I’ll help you”.  Faith might mean there won’t be answers. And hope might mean enduring through the night.  But help me not forget in darkness, the things that I believed in light.  I’ve got something to say.  It’s been one of those days when I’m finding it hard to believe in you. – Starfield

At the end of each thought provoking performance, we invited a panel of people who work in the areas of poverty within Calgary to come and speak to the audience about the truths (and  stereotypes) of poverty.

It was a highlight for us to have so many wonderful organizations represented.

And what you didn’t see!  Here’s some behind the scenes….

If you’ve been following my journey, you’ll know that I have been exploring my world of excess and finding…. well… a lot of stuff!  Such as 11 Lululemon tops (11  x $58 = $638… yikes.  I say “yikes” because guaranteed it was bought on impluse on my credit card, with an unhappy husband waiting at home).   That’s a lot of working out I need to do!

I also found I had 7 adidas jackets.  “Had” -  yes you read that correct.  I now have one.  Poor me, I know.  You really should feel sorry for me.  I used to have one that matched every outfit.  I even had 2 with BLING!  But I gave them all away.  Why would I do something ridiculous as that?  To stop the power of consumerism over my life.  Why on earth does anyone need seven adidas jackets (all bought on impulse via visa.  Once again – are you noting a pattern here?)

During my show and a few events beforehand, I started giving them out to various audience members.   It was HARD.  Seriously! It was hard!  You know you’re a slave to consumermania when you look like me grasping onto jackets with clutched hands screaming out in my best Gollum; “It’s mine!  My precious!”

The first one I gave away was my yellow adidas.  Ok, you don’t understand, yellow is my FAVORITE color.  I felt this “nudge” in my heart telling me to give it away to one of our dancers during our last run through who I knew also really loves yellow.  The thought of blessing her thrilled me, but I sadly admit, I passed by my closet numerous times that day thinking, “Not THAT one.  Really??!  Couldn’t we build up to giving that one away?  How about the green one? That one makes me look pregnant…”  I finally gave in, grabbed the jacket and put it in my bag so I wouldn’t conveniently “forget”.   That evening I confessed my excessiveness to my dancers and then handed my yellow adidas over to its new owner.   Its a good thing I had such a great cloud of witnesses.  I wanted to be sure I couldn’t back out of it.

Funny thing is, once the jacket was out of my hands, I didn’t even miss it.  I still don’t miss it.  My life has surprisingly gone on without it…

The next one to go was my white one with BLING.  BLING – you hear me??   I’m not sure if you understand.  I love bling.  Me and bling have a special relationship, ok?   I told it I would treasure it forever, take good care of it and give it lots of lovin’.  I had never betrayed it, until that night when it left my careful hands and was placed into the hands of an eight year old.  AN.EIGHT.YEAR.OLD.  All I could think was, “God only knows what that child will do to my precious bling!”   Then I felt a voice inside me say, “I bet she’ll treasure it forever”.  Maybe this girl had never received something so royal?    It turned out to be a great joy of my heart to see her with my jacket.  Besides, I still had my black and gold bling adidas

Well that didn’t last long.  My black and gold adidas was handed out to a sold out audience at my show “Something To Say”.  I won’t lie. That one hurt A LOT.  This particular adidas and I had been through many years together.   This was the jacket I wore when it was time to dress for the kill.  That night it left my hands to bless a mom fleeing domestic violence staying at the Sonshine Centre.   I was happy to not be giving my “second-best” to someone who has been through hell and back.  She, whoever she is, deserved this, and more.

You get it by now.  Each night, another Adidas jacket left my closet and went into the hands of another audience member.   I pondered it ironic that it was so hard to give each one away (except for the Preggo-green one) only to find I didn’t even miss them once they were gone.  Even my blingy ones (if they heard that they’d be devastated!… they must miss me)

So what’s my point?  Maybe we have too much?  No, not YOU.  I’m talking about your best friend or your neighbor.  Man, those guys are the hoarders, aren’t they?   But if you do find you relate to my story, can I urge you that there is a joy, freedom (and expanse of closet space created) if you’re willing to do a little purging.  Not just to get rid of “stuff” – but to stop the power of consumerism over your life.

Living simple is getting to be fun.  Why not see if I’m right?  I’d love to hear your stories of your own personal journey!