The Art of Money

I have a few great loves. One, is education. I love learning and being a student.

I love discovering new things about myself and the world around me. When I was little I devoured encyclopaedias and Reader’s Digest books on “How Things Work”.

One of my favourite subjects in high school was Electronics with Mr Renzullo.

Every year I am learning. In this journey of life, NONE of us get out alive, so I want to savour the experience this reality offers with all the wonders and mysteries of the world.

For many of us, a huge elephant in the room exists which is an obstacle to learning and experiencing life in its full spectrum: MONEY.

Unless you were born to privilege surpassing the need for more, we have all had to rumble with this…thing about money at some stage.

We all have different ideas and values about it, some make more and some make less, some have more and some have less. A piece of paper (or plastic) that humans have assigned value to represent [the also assigned] value of a gold “precious” substance dug out of the ground governments say they have stashed away.

For me, growing up in a house of 6 kids meant money wasn’t in abundance. When I started work at 14 I thought I was the richest person in the world to get $20 -$30 a week. Compared to many in the world who live below the poverty line, I probably would be one the richest people in the world!

In Perth however, costs of living demand a higher income than $5 an hour.

If you read my previous post, you will know that I worked hard to rise above a low socioeconomic class.

BUT this comes with another set of problems:

  • Guilt when you earn more than your limiting belief

  • Responsibility to help others (because I know what it’s like to be starving and have nothing)

  • Zero knowledge on how to budget and what to do with money when you have it

  • Misplaced values around money

  • Avoidance and shame around previous habits

  • Debt from studying

When I was 17 my violent mother left my father, took the children and then via the court system took everything he owned away. He had worked like a Trojan his whole life, retired debt free and in an instant it was taken from under his feet, encumbered with a debt he didn’t deserve for all his hard work. I have not spoken to my mother since, going on 15 years.
What I didn’t realise at the time was how this impacted my view of what money is and does.
From that time on, I believed money corrupted people, that people will sell their soul for the dollar and commit acts in the name of money that went against ethical reason. The brand name clothing she bought when we had no money, the sports I wanted to play but couldn’t because “it was too expensive” left a sour taste in my mouth for years to come.

Even in my adulthood, I can feel the somatic response to my perception of people living in excess.

I demonised money and vowed I would never be like my mother. A story I would rewrite in my life.

It meant when I needed money I just worked harder for what I wanted such as travel, a car or bills.
But deep down I had a subconscious program that if I worked hard, studied, got a mortgage I would be happy, yet the fear remained it could all be taken away. When I got married and reluctantly acquiesced to getting a mortgage and living in the suburbs, all I knew was that I didn’t want that life. It did not bring me the peace and contentment and safety I was looking for. In fact, no external thing can do that for us.

It was during this time of getting married and building a house I discovered the Ido Portal method.

I was in a financially secure place running a little Chiropractic clinic and was doing my Masters.

What I didn’t realise was how much of a life changing experience learning from this person was.

Within a year of being married with a mortgage, I was out. I walked away financially worse off than if I had just stayed single. Divorce costs you emotionally physically mentally and financially.

My net income that year was -$6000.

That same year in 2015 Ido launched his Mentorship program for his close students.

It was a thistle to swallow that I couldn’t afford it that year, or the year after. I was in a state of absolute financial chaos.

I opened Modus with two partners and planned for this facility to be able to one day afford all of us in the program. This was the life path I had chosen. Movement.

So here was the Money Koan: how to raise my income ceiling or reduce living expenses to facilitate the Mentorship program as well as all the other stuff until such time as Modus could sustain it through the business.

Many people said the program was to expensive. Some leaving the group because of the cost. I looked at it like this; you just don’t want it bad enough. I am prepared to work 3 jobs and make the necessary sacrifices because this is what I value. This brought up a lot of fear. How can I help support my sister with my nephew and my dad and look after myself without just working like a demon all the time?

So January 2018 I started Bari Tessler’s The Art of Money year long program to get my shit sorted. To get on top of my tax lodgements and work out student loan debt AND live and pay for the Mentorship program.

You see, I don’t have parents to bail me out. No one is there to bail me out. I don’t have an uncle or grandparent to borrow from. There is zero safety net. I don’t live at home with my mother doing my laundry and allowing me to stay rent free. I punched my way through life to get where I am.

In order to do some deep work around money, I had to settle my nervous system, get out of the fear and anger. I had to clarify my relationship with money.

The year after I made -$6000 I bounced back and made $150,000 with my nose grinding the stone. This meant a huge tax bill of $40,000. Another learning curve and opportunity to refocus on what’s important.

2018 I joined the Mentorship program investing $20,000 AUD every year to my Movement Education. Worth every cent.

By contrast if your in Oz doing a Masters, have a look at what that will cost you.

What I loved about Bari’s course was that she as a psychotherapist knew how much the ‘money healing’ phase can set a person up to rewrite their narrative around money. Things like overcoming underearning, family background and the somatic effect even bringing this stuff up can have on the body is super important to work through.

The course is way too long and detailed to summarise effectively, but she has an amazing book by the same name which I found much more resonating than The Barefoot Investor for example.

This year I prepare for another growth year. I am going to take on my dad’s mortgage. He is 80 next year and i don’t believe he should have to see the rest of his days out in constant anxiety about money. I have 35 years left in the workforce and look to this new money koan with a hint of fear but mostly gratitude that I am equipped with the skills to be able to do this for him.

This is an ongoing work in progress and if you’ve made it this far you deserve some credit. Thank you for this time to read something I hope will show you we are ALL humans going through these issues every year, ebbing and flowing.

I personally don’t value a nice new car or a big flash house. It’s OK if that ‘s your priority in life. Just don’t use this excuse that you don’t have enough money to travel or for tuition at Modus or you can’t do what you want to do because of money. Be honest that you just have a different value system to me. Be ruthlessly honest with yourself and take ownership over the life decisions that have led to this point. I know I had to get real down and dirty with my choices in life and how it impacted my journey.

Here is the link to Bari’s website where you can check out her work and read lots of FREE articles

http://baritessler.com/art-of-money/



Lessons From Losing My Driver's Licence

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Lessons From Losing My Driver's Licence

“Work, work, work, work, work, work

You see me I be work, work, work, work, work, work

You see me do me dirt, dirt, dirt, dirt, dirt, dirt

There's something 'bout that work, work, work, work, work, work

When you a gon' learn, learn, learn, learn, learn, learn

Me na care if me tired, tired, tired, tired, tired, tired” - Rihanna


I’m a worker. Workaholic. Live to work. Work is life.

This was my creed. An invisible tattoo born from the necessity of circumstance.

My miner father, my cleaner mother.

My father with spinal surgery from.. Work. then working some more.

Second oldest of six children. You know the story. Impoverished upbringing begetting a child who either sinks or swims in a world where the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.


A learned pattern of behaviour: WORK.

Work at school for the grades, get a job at 14 to earn some coin, work at uni, work at night, work at day, work on weekends, work on Christmas, on New year’s day, on every holiday. While they sleep I worked. While they drank I worked.

Life doesn’t hand out anything for free if your last name is Durnan. Work hard. Harder than most. Work the hardest you can.


Think you can take a break? Wrong. You must work more. Work for the others, for those that can’t [won’t].

I told this story to myself until it became automated. It’s in my nature. If I see someone shovelling dirt I will pick up a shovel and get to work helping.

I would say to myself I work like a man.

There was no where I wouldn’t drive to, the more physically challenging and laborious the task, the more I would throw myself into it. Three places of employment at a time, I didn’t know what a day or night off was.

Training with Ido Portal and more work? Yeh gimme gimme I love that shit let me prove how much I can squeeze into a day. I don’t need sleep! Dopamine, my drug of choice. Just don’t leave me with a spare minute in the day.

I would zoom around in my car, zipping here there and everywhere. Cooking engines as self care was neglected as much as servicing my car.

It was always destined to happen, losing my licence that is. I had already served 2 previous years of good behaviour for excessive chronic speeding. The third time was most certainly not lucky.

I was hit with a final 6 demerit point loss Dec 2017 and continued to evade service of licence suspension for a further 8 months until someone finally caught me out at home.

Wings clipped. Six months, no driving.

Considering I live 1.5 hours away from Modus this was a big deal. You may as well have put me under house arrest.

I wasn’t angry or frustrated. Actually, I was relieved. The universe finally told me in no uncertain terms:

STOP

I had to stop the business and fast pace of life. I had to sit with emotions and feelings of “not doing enough”.
I had to look at my choices and habits and all the extra space that would be created. Staring into the loss of a certain freedom modern life has granted us.

What also came up?

Fear.

Of not making money. Fear of not having enough. Fear of letting go of control. Fear of letting other people drive me around. Fear of being dependant.

The first three months was easy. It was nice. It was funny. But now I’m in month 4… and it’s getting old.

I just want to go to the beach on those hot days and be on my own. But I can’t.

I just want to go out to the shop to grab some butter… BUT I CAN’T

I just want to pick up my nephew. BUT I CAN’T

Lesson learned Universe. I’ve slowed down.

I sit more. Meditate more. Breathe more. I welcomed the soft river to balance the internal furnace.

And you know what? the world didn’t end.

I had space to create future income streams and tick things off my "To Do” list that I hadn’t made time for. I left space.

I also found out who my real friends were (and we ALL have those people). The ones who I always drove to, flew to and called up to catch up. I send them love but now channel my energy to those who give back too. Fuckers.

I have two months left to go. I’m going to sit with the discomfort and lean forward to greet it, writing a different story knowing that The Workhorse still resides within, but I can choose when to put that yoke around my neck and remove it when I want. I’m not a slave to the program anymore.

Break Patterns.

…Plus I’ve saved a lot of money on petrol and speeding fines!!!!

xoxo MD


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