“I haven’t worn a suit in six months, unless you count my bathing suit,” I told her. “For that matter, I haven’t worn a pair of heels or any make-up either.” I thought about my storage unit full of top-dollar clothes, shoes, and bags, and realized I didn’t miss any of them. I made a mental note to donate the clothes to women who did upon my return.
Maureen, a fifty-three year old training executive who had just been laid off after thirty-three years with the same company, wanted to know how I was dealing with the loss of financial security.
“I expected to rely on my savings,” I told her, confidently. But I was unable to ignore the fear that was rising inside, as I knew my savings would never sustain me the two to three years I would need to finish this book. I explained how I had scaled back my expenses, getting rid of my coveted $3,100-a-month, Upper West Side, garden apartment, selling most of my furniture, and putting the rest in storage. In Costa Rica, I got down to basics, cutting all non-critical expenses, including the one item I didn't think I could live without — my cell phone. I grabbed her hand: “This is a wonderful opportunity for you, Maureen, I hope you know that. This is when you make your dreams happen.”
Unlike a lot of the articles I’ve read in More magazine, this one is not about a successful reinvention. It’s about a reinvention in progress. And there are bumps along the way, deeper than the potholes in Costa Rica. For example, I just heard yesterday from my tax accountant that my tax obligation for last year is significantly higher than I expected. I will need to continue putting the maximum in my retirement account as well as dedicate much of my remaining savings to last year’s taxes — putting me in a deep hole, indeed.
After allowing myself a twenty-four hour panic attack, I pulled myself together and repeated aloud my guiding mantra: “Build the life you want. Not the one you don’t.”
