One of the things that you can – quite selfishly – enjoy about writing a blog is that it serves as an online diary for your own thoughts, hopes, opinions and ideas over time. When I started writing this blog two years ago (June 29, 2007, to be exact) I had no idea that the market was going to go belly-up for a while, that we would manage to sell our house for a (small) profit in the worst real estate environment in decades, and that I was going to be living in Florida with not one but two children.

Some of my articles about life in Jersey are strange to go back and look at:

• why I will not live in the northeast forever
• why is it called the Garden State?
• why my public library is not much of a money-saver

I have kept a journal, on and off, for about 13 years now. I can learn a lot about myself today by going back and looking at what was important to me years ago.  The blog serves the same purpose.  Emails do, too.  Writing freezes a minute in time, and by helping us understand where we came from it can often tell us where we are going.  Even pictures and videos capture your thoughts – what you took pictures of can tell a lot about what you were thinking.

I find one aspect of writing reassuring above all else. If I look back on my writing and journals and all of these records, several themes emerged (and again, I’m going back maybe 13 years in total).  A few of them were:

• I didn’t like – and don’t – working the 9 to 5 corporate employee lifestyle.
• I used to love, but grew sick of, business travel and travel in general.  Some joy disappeared after September 11th.
• I was tired of cold weather, long commutes and high costs of living – life in the Northeast.  I dreamed almost constantly of warmer weather – for health, for the sun, for the lifestyle.
• Success and increasing salary (in my corporate life) and rising consulting fees (in my contracting life) didn’t make me feel happier or that life was getting easier.
• I like reading, a lot, and have not done enough of it.  As the internet grew, my real reading dropped off.
• Getting married was a big change for someone like me who had clung to bachelorhood, but it was a minor change compared to having children.  People without children get sick of hearing this – I know I did – but everything about how I perceived the world changed when I had kids.  Not always positively, either – dangers that you hadn’t considered before you had children creep into your thoughts.

I made changes in all of these areas. I can see how I led myself there.  That’s a neat thing to see. If you don’t write, get started.  Even if you just keep a day planner, try to put some thoughts down every day (or three).  Nobody will ever understand you as well as you understand yourself, and keeping a record of how your thoughts evolve over time will become more and more fascinating the longer you write them down.

Have you ever bought a lottery ticket? Have you ever used a coupon? Have you ever incurred non-mortgage debt? If you haven’t ever, will you ever, just to try it? Just to see where it takes you?

I have some financial behavior that is set in stone. You do, too, I bet.  Me?  I hate debt of any sort. I can’t stand seeing money spent on “fancy” cars, even though I’ve owned several nice new mid-range cars. On the other hand, I am careless about spending money on eating out. I can spend money on big-ticket items if I think they benefit health or quality of living, but I agonize over spending smaller amounts on items I might not “need” – think “new shoes”, for example.

Most behavior is learned. Some is not. I know where I got the idea that money spent on “going out” was money well spent. I know where I got the idea that any money spent on books was money well spent, too. I also know why I think ANY debt is awful, and why I get antsy about buying expensive (but hopefully good quality clothes). Most of these behaviors were learned at a young age, and they fit in with the world view I developed as an adolescent and voila – now these money behaviors are part of what define me.

I often wonder if I will ever apply for a $300,000 small business loan, or splash out on a BMW. It’s easier to imagine the loan than the car, I guess. I drive an almost 10-year-old Pontiac because I just don’t care about cars. It has an air conditioner and a CD player, and it makes – for an old car – acceptable mileage. The loan? If I was suddenly struck by inspiration to start a coffee shop or a hardware store or something like that, maybe… but it would be so out of my normal financial behavior that even writing that seems odd to me.

Without being too specific, I spent some time a few days ago listening to a radio show from a political commentator whose political views were 180 degrees from my own. I was stunned by what I perceived as the commentator’s completely insane view of reality. Imagine trying to listen to someone try to convince you that the sky is pink. I wondered whether there was some truth in what he said, and whether I could ever pull some of that truth out and live with it. I doubt I could, in the same way that I can’t imagine suddenly strolling into an Audi dealership, ready to buy. Some behaviors and thought patterns are hard to change – for better or for worse.

photo by Q U E E F