The bank. I went there yesterday after a lovely lunch with my husband and his parents. We went there to talk money. Money talk is the talk around here lately. Money talk. Things I say to myself these days are, “I am re-writing my story around money.” and “I’m good with money and money is good to me.” and “$22k, $22k, $22k.”

Folk singers love talking money. More specifically we love talking about how there isn’t any and there never will be. Some time around last March was when I figured that thinking wasn’t working for me anymore and I needed to re-learn how to think about money, how it works in my life and how to make peace with it after resisting it for so long. Yesterday’s trip to the bank was part of that.

I was nervous, but there was no reason to be. The man on the other side of the desk is a friend of our’s. He goes to our church, he takes our boys to Boy Scout Camp. He’s awesome. And so is money. It helps us do stuff like live in our house and buy groceries for our kids, keep the lights on, pay for school fees, take vacations to the mountains and make brand new records. It can’t be both a resource and an enemy. It can’t be both a villain and a victor. Well, it actually CAN be both those things, but I don’t want to think like that anymore. So I’m working on how I talk about money, think about it, use it and so I went to the bank like a real grown up yesterday.

You all probably know the Kickstarter I’m doing for my upcoming album projects is in the home stretch. The backers who have contributed are like a huge ball of light for me. I couldn’t sleep so I’m up early and, of course I checked it and we’re up to 165! I would be over the moon to get to 250 backers (that was my goal) but now I’m really hoping we get close to two hundred. WOW. Talk about an exercise in generosity! Talk about an exercise in love and abundance. Holy cow. These backers keep surprising and astounding me and I’m a big pile of gratitude with a pretty pink bow on top thanks to them.

Which helps because it feels like life is shifting and pointing me toward a future I don’t recognize. Before the bank I was crying in the passenger seat of our grey Chevy Impala mourning the loss of past things. Lately, I’ve been feeling untethered by the falling away of an old identity as I steadily move toward a new one. Thank God for all those backers and helpers and friends who are stepping up in these days because I feel like a little yellow life raft floating and drifting further out to sea. And you know the weird thing? I know I chose this. Over and over again I chose to let go and get in the raft and let the sea take me. This isn’t happening TO ME. It’s happening because I decided to make these moves. And so why the crying? Because it still feels sad, and it still feels scary and I can’t exactly tell you how the story is going to end, but I sure know which path I’ve chosen and it feels like I’ve never been here before. And cue tears.

The sun’s not up yet. Last night’s pots and pans are still in the sink, the house is quiet, I’ve got my Wonder Woman cup filled with coffee and a new gift of a day inviting me to dive in. Here in Nebraska you can feel how the wind has shifted, how the moisture has suddenly left the air and the afternoon sun turns into twilight a bit easier as the days pass. Change is everywhere. In the air, on the TV, and right here at home. I’m thankful for it, I’m celebrating it and mourning it, I’m curious and tentative and wearing the same bathrobe I’ve had since Sammy was born.

Sammy’s a junior in high school now. My prayer is one of preparation. Lord, prepare me. Lord, make me ready. I don’t know what that means exactly, but thankfully, the good Lord in his love and wisdom knows exactly what that means. In fact, he was on the job way before I even sent up the prayer.

Have a good one, you guys.

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