Father's Day Remorse

Recently, a close friend asked me to tell him about my Dad. As I started to share a few of my memories, I found myself crying a cry that was deeper and harder than I would have expected. I thought I had dealt with all my "Dad" stuff, but apparently not. My friend went on to ask, "When is the last time you talked to your Dad?" I don't remember when I last spoke to him on the phone, but I will never forget the last time we saw each other.

During a warm month of 1986 when I was 19 years old, I was in the living room of our house on Elm Street in Spokane, Washington. By "our" house, I mean the home where my Mom, sister and I lived. My parents had been divorced for 13 years and Dad still lived in Moscow, Idaho, which is more than an hour-and-a-half drive from Spokane.

I don't remember what I was doing at the time, but I looked out of the big picture window in the living room and saw Dad drive up and park in front of the house. I thought, "What is he doing here?" It was vastly out of the ordinary for me to see him in Spokane and I don't have any other memories of him visiting the house on Elm Street.

When I saw his car, my heart sank. I didn't want to deal with him. I didn't want to see him or feel the way I felt when I saw him. But I didn't want to hurt him either, so I walked out to his car and put on a friendly face. He said, "Hey kid, how about spending some time with your good ole' Dad?" Outwardly, he was always jovial, but I always had the sense that he was really sad and lonely on the inside.

When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time with him. He picked me up from school everyday and I slept at his house at least half of the time. Grandma (his mom) used to tell me how much Dad loved me and that I needed to be good to him and take care of him. But after I moved to Spokane, I saw him less—partly because of the distance, partly because I didn't want to see him. It hurt too much.

Dad was an alcoholic and drank whisky, even for breakfast. I watched his health decline over the years and when he came to visit me that day he was malnourished and emaciated. His cheeks were sunken, all of his bones showed through his skin, his belly was distended, and he could barely walk, every step was stiff and painful from the gout in his feet. I felt so sorry for him. I always knew he was killing himself with the alcohol and I wished he would just die...to put himself out of his misery.

That day in Spokane, he probably offered to take me out for a burger. I think we went for a short drive, but we might have just sat there in the car...the specifics are fuzzy. What I remember clearly is feeling sorry for him and embarrassed that he was my dad. Our house was one block from the school and I didn't want anyone to see me with him. But I also didn't want him to know that I felt that way. I made up an excuse that I had plans with a friend and had to go.

He handed me a potted pink hyacinth that smelled heavenly. I took the flower, walked into the house, and set it on the table by the front window where it would remind me of his visit in the weeks to come. As I watched him drive away, I felt so bad and so guilty, yet so relieved. I know he was disappointed not to spend more time with me. Here, he'd driven almost two hours one way just to see me and I blew him off. A couple of months later, he died while I was in Germany, and I didn't even go to his funeral. In writing this, I realize that I have felt like a terrible person ever since.

Over the years, a lot of people have told me in different ways that I'm terrific, but I haven't felt it. The words "loving" or "kind" never felt true about me. Maybe it's because I felt so awful for the years of making up excuses and avoiding my Dad and for not being there for him on that day in 1986.

Writing this down, though, has given me new perspective. When I step back, my adult eyes and my experience tell me that I was just a normal teenager wanting to fit in. And, of course, it's hard to watch someone self-destruct, especially a parent. But there is nothing that I could have done to save him and, in realizing that, I feel a weight lifted.

I wonder what other weights I might be carrying without noticing. As I uncover and unload them, I'll be sure to share them here. In the meantime, I'd love to hear about your fathers. And to my own, I say...

Dad, Wherever you are, I love you and Happy Father's Day!

What Do You Ache For?

The Invitation is a beautiful poem, which begins:

It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

One night last December, I wrote a reply to the question "What do you ache for?" My boyfriend and I had just returned from seven months of traveling overseas. It had been a wonderful adventure, but with difficulties that left me thinking about our relationship. In that mindset, I wrote the following poem:

An R.S.V.P. to "The Invitation"

I want you to be my friend.
I don't want to control you, at least in theory.
But when I try, which I'm sure to,
Call me on it,
And still be my friend.

I want you to be my friend.
I don't want you to control me,
Or tell me how to be,
But you sometimes will,
And I'll still be your friend.

I want you to be my lover,
I ache for the fairy tale,
But know it doesn't exist.
I want to be adored,
Not like a Goddess,
but for the woman I am.

I want extravagant love,
A swirling vortex of rapture,
With deep respect,
And genuine affection,
And flare.
And grit.

I want more,
What you offer isn't enough.
I need to stop my pain,
Wanting what you don't have,
What you cannot give.

I'll never be enough for you,
Perhaps no one will be,
Or worse,
someone, some other
will be.

My love for you wants your happiness,
My jealousy only wants that
If I can give it.
But I can't.

I want a partner,
Totally into me,
Like I am into him.
With good friends,
Who we help sometimes,
And joint goals and projects,
To connect us,
And time to ourselves,
To rejuvenate.

I want time alone,
Not to be away from you,
But to be with me.

I want financial security,
To be taken care of,
Or to take care of,
Or to muddle through together,
Not yours or mine,
But what's needed.

I want fun sex,
To look forward to it,
With my body feeling good,
And my spirit alive,
With laughter,

I want you to enjoy sex,
With me,
With no reservations,
Sometimes experimenting,
Sometimes not.

I want stability,
Even if it's only an illusion,
To feel like we're forever,
Even if tomorrow is the end.

My heart longs for
Happily ever after,
Not kids,
Not a white picket fence,
But truly, madly, deeply.

I ache for a friend,
A partner,
A lover,
To fully share my life with,
No buts.

Do I look like a fool for love?
Hoping beyond hope
For something with you,
That likely will never be.
If that's a fool,
Then I look it,
And I certainly feel it.

I feel embarrassed,
Embarrassed within myself,
For wishing,
Wishing something to be,
That is simply not.
by Annie Beringer, Copyright © 2009

The Invitation asks what do you ache for, as in what do you desire. But desires, when unfulfilled, can become an ache that is painful, and my ache, my pain, was in wanting the relationship to be different than it was. Now, six months after writing An R.S.V.P. to "The Invitation," I have accepted the relationship for what it is—so good in so many ways...but not the fairy tale.

We have decided to just be friends, the closest of friends, and I am doing my best to keep what is good between us while letting go of the ache for something more. But I'm not sure it's possible to keep all of the good. Letting go of the pain means letting go of us as a couple, but a part of what made us a great couple came from that deep and special connection shared between lovers. I can't quantify it, but it's palpable.

When I dropped my "friend" off at the airport without a kiss goodbye, there was nothing wrong with that, but a little sliver of connection flaked off. That's just how it is. We are well on our way to the next incarnation of our relationship and I think it will be good in it's own way, it just won't be truly, madly, deeply.

What do I ache for, what do I desire now? I'll save that for a future column. What do you ache for? I'd love to hear about it. To read the entire poem, The Invitation, visit http://www.oriahmountaindreamer.com/. Whether this is your first or fiftieth time, I think you'll find it inspiring and thought provoking. Thank you, Oriah, for sharing your Invitation.

How Do I Hate Thee? Let Me Count the Ways...

I hate myself. Sometimes. But I know I'm not alone.

Last night, I cried myself to sleep at 3:30 a.m. after a discussion with my boyfriend. Like all relationships, some stuff works and other stuff doesn't. We were discussing the "doesn't."

This morning, I woke up at 8:30 and went to my Bikram yoga class. The 90-minute, 26-posture, 105-degree, and 40%-humidity class was just the challenge I needed to take my mind off of things. The session is designed as a moving meditation, a time to focus on yourself and your breath. The front and side walls are lined with mirrors, and an instructor verbally guides the class through each posture. Today, while my body felt good and did most postures better than usual, my mind and emotions were a turbulent sea. Thoughts of last night's conversation flashed and tears rolled down my cheeks, entirely unnoticeable in a room filled with people dripping sweat from head to toe. Then today's instructor, Izzy, told a short story.

"Look at yourself in the mirror," she reminded us. "It isn't always easy and it takes practice." She paused for a moment, then went on. "A woman in another class told me it took her two years to look into her own eyes in the mirror. Two years! And she was a beautiful woman. Gorgeous, in fact, with model good looks." Izzy paused again. "Remember, it's not easy for any of us. Just keep trying."

"It's not easy for any of us." That struck me. First off, I've been trying and failing to look at myself in that blasted yoga mirror for last three months. Looking into my own eyes is tough. A little easier is eyeing a particular body part. For example on "eagle pose" where you twist yourself like a pretzel, I notice the chubby part on the side of my torso just under my armpits. My yoga top digs in, so I get a good view of the fat there. I judge it. It's ugly. It needs to go.

Each posture twists differently and I see my body in every possible contortion. Once in awhile I think, "Hmmm, looking better" or maybe even, "Looking good." But more often than not, the thoughts and feelings are negative. They don't come to me as words though, like "I'm too fat." Rather, it's more of a feeling, like a ghost passing through on a brief gust of chilled air. But before the chill can turn into a shiver, the feeling is gone and does not register consciously. So, I don't think of myself as a person who hates herself. On the outside, I walk through life seemingly happy and smiling, but it turns out that on the inside, I'm haunted by the ghosts of self-hate. They pop in and out wordlessly, and constantly. I'm just so used to them, that I don't notice they are there.

"It's not easy for any of us." Even that gorgeous unnamed woman that Izzy spoke of struggles with self-hate. And if she's anything like me, her body is the least of her troubles. What of her soul? What of my soul? I would take the fattest, ugliest, pock-marked, crippled body for my soul to be free of it hating itself. To feel unadulterated joy, to love myself...not partly, but wholly. Not some of the time, but all of the time. My! Now, that would really be something!

No, it WILL be something. I intend to feel that way. I'm going to fight the hate by singing my praises to myself. And I'll start now with a few things that I think are really great about me:

* I exude good, friendly energy that makes me fun and easy to be around.
* I make fabulous tarter sauce.
* I am open to new ideas and ways of thinking (this one will be important in my current quest to shoo out the ghosts).
* I help my friends and family willingly and with joy.
* I have a cute butt.

While writing the list, I felt a feeling wash over me. One of those pesky ghosts. In words, it's something like "How silly. How remedial. I did this stuff 10 years ago. Why am I still working on the issue of self-hate? Who wants to read this drivel..." But you know what (I say to myself and to my ghosts)? Remedial or not, if it gets me to my goal, then good for me.

As for today's tears, I see now that they too were caused by the ghosts. And I feel good knowing I have it in me to be my own Ghostbuster and make myself happy. Here's to no more tears...someday.

Flying Toilets

Interesting toilets fascinate me. So much so that when I travel, I take my camera along to the bathroom just in case there's a noteworthy commode to document. Stand-out toilets have ranged from posh to plain, prodigious to pee-wee, and from pristine to downright health hazards.

An example on the posh side is the ladies room at the Columbia Tower Club ("Seattle's premier private business and fine dining club") located at the top of the Bank of America Tower, Seattle's tallest building. The women's restroom is actually a set of toilet suites, each with it's own door leading to a private toilet, sink, and floor-to-ceiling windows offering sweeping views of Mt. Rainier and the Puget Sound. Seriously, these are the best seats in the house—think Queen sitting on her throne, and you've got the picture.

On the flip side, after driving a couple hours through the tundra from Nome, Alaska to the small town of Teller (pop. 278), I felt the urge...urgently. There was only one store in town that doubled as the post office, and I probably could have found the sheriff there too if I had asked, but I was on a mission. The store keeper simply pointed to the back room. There I found a bucket. Only a bucket.

I trace my interest in toilets to my grandparent's farm in rural Idaho. My Grandma was very nostalgic and liked things the way they used to be in the "good old days." Every so often when nature called, she would make me leave modern plumbing behind and and march me out the front door, through the squeaky gate, down the railroad-tie steps, and past the chicken coupe to the privy. That's an old-fashioned name for an outhouse. It was old, dark, and filled with cobwebs, but it was the same one she used as a girl and by golly, if it was good enough for her, well, then...you get the picture.

A decade later, I found myself living in Germany as an exchange student in an adorable little house with the nicest family and the oddest toilet I'd ever seen in my not-well-traveled life. There was a raised platform where the water should have been and anything that landed on it stayed there until you flushed. The trouble was, I couldn't figure out how to do that. Every toilet I'd ever seen had a handle.

Now that I'm older and wiser, I know that to flush toilets I must look for levers, pull-chains, buttons, motion sensor pads, knobs, remote controls, and even must lock the bathroom door.


Bathroom facilities are as varied as the people who use them...and those who design them. I always wonder who decided on this style of toilet? How did they choose the floor tile? Why did they decide to spring for both linens and paper towels, but not a blow dryer? What influenced their choice of wall colors? And for Pete's sake, who chose this terrible artwork!?


Some of my more thought provoking lavatory experiences...

* A restroom that is actually carved out of the stone in the side of a mountain, high up in the Alps. (I have no idea how they ran the plumbing up there.)
* Japanese toilets with full accessory packages including a full bum wash, you pick your water temperature and pressure. (Warm is very nice.)
* Urinals in a Frankfurt men's room shaped like a big set of Rolling Stones lips. (Now, that's Satisfaction!)
* And, then there's always a tree.


While some bathrooms took a designer hundreds of hours to detail, and others are just utility rooms inserted to meet building codes, there is yet another toilet in a category of its own--the flying toilet. With my lifelong interest in the subject, my ears perked up when I heard a story this week on public radio about the flying toilets in Nairobi, Kenya. At first blush, the name conjures images of cartoon toilets with wings, but the reality is far more grim. Wikipedia says, "A flying toilet is a facetious name for the use of plastic bags for defecation, which are then thrown into ditches, on the roadside, or simply as far away as possible."

Far away isn't far enough. The story went on to explain that the streets and rooftops in the Nairobi slums are covered in these bags of waste. People get hit with them as they are blindly tossed, and children run and play barefoot in the filth. It's sad and shocking, and a good reminder to me to appreciate how good I have it, even if it's sometimes just a bucket.


(To hear the NPR story on Flying Toilets, visit http://www.worldvisionreport.org/Stories/Week-of-May-29-2010/Flying-Toilets)

My Dirty Little Secret

I've got a secret to share—I fantasize about writing. When I'm away from my computer, I think about all kinds of topics to blog about, and I make up stories and poems in my head. And in those moments, the thoughts flow, the words dance on the page, and before I know it, I'm on The Daily Show pitching my first best seller. I banter with John Stewart, I'm quick witted, the audience laughs, and I'm invited back as one of his favorite guests.

As I head home from yoga or grocery shopping or lunch with a friend, the creative thoughts swirl and fantasies of being a wildly popular author make me giddy. I can't wait get to my computer. But then something terrible happens—I get home. It's an odd phenomenon, but every house, apartment and hotel room I've ever stayed in has a magical barrier called "the front door." The door itself is easy enough to spot, but the mystical boundary it conceals is invisible to the naked eye. My physical body passes through easily, but as I cross the threshold, all creativity is zapped from me as if the outside world is the nirvana of creative inspiration while the house itself is a creative black hole.

Once inside, I still want to write, but in a more abstract way. The words that flowed so perfectly in my head just an hour before, now seem all wrong. And the stroke-of-genius plot idea doesn't seem so genius after all. I decide to do the dishes and put in a load of laundry. I have papers to go through and dinner to prepare. Distractions abound and I make full use of them. When I finally open my computer with all good intentions of writing, I take just a quick peek at my e-mail, and then...shweeeeesh! A sound not audible to the human ear and evidenced only by the fact that hours have past by reading e-mail and watching YouTube videos. At best, I might have written a clever comment to a "Friend's" Facebook post, but my fabulous creative surge and fast-track writing career are postponed until "tomorrow."

I know my little secret is not quite as salacious as being a sex addict or alcoholic, but it has been a secret nonetheless, and one shared only with my closest friends. Which brings me to you.

When I'm not fantasizing about winning the Pulitzer Prize, I swing the other direction and think more modestly that I'd just like to write something, someday, that at least one person other than myself, my family and my closest friends finds worth reading. Last week, that dream came true. Thanks to a friend prodding me, I created this blog and posted "10 Rules to Make Buying Decisions Easier." As expected, my best friends Joe, Andy, and Jenn all read and commented on it. But to my greatest surprise, Betsy commented on it, too. I used to work with her husband and she certainly doesn't fall under the "I have to read this, because my best friend wrote it"-category. Another big surprise was seeing that I had a "Follower." I saw there was one person and figured it would be one of my best friends. But no, it was Ken!!! A friend I've met twice in New York City, once 10 years ago and the second time two years ago. I was stunned, excited, and felt inspired to write...for Ken, my follower.

To all of my closest friends, I love you and truly appreciate your encouragement—in life, in general, and specifically about my writing. But today's blog is dedicated to Betsy and Ken, people who really didn't have to read last week's post, but did, and who inspired me to write today.

10 Rules to Make Buying Decisions Easier

Buying is a modern day hazard of life. It's a time suck, and adds small bits of daily stress that make life less enjoyable. And whether you consider yourself a "shopper" or not, you are certainly a buyer. And you're so used to it, that you likely don't notice the hundreds of daily decisions you make...from what to have for lunch to where to buy gas for your car.

Think about it, we buy:

• Food at grocery stores, farmer's markets, and restaurants.
  
• Cars, and gas for those cars, along with oil changes, tune ups, and repair services.
• Entertainment, which could be a DVD to watch at home or a ticket to the movie theatre, a book to read, a concert to attend, or a weekend getaway trip.
  
• Computers and the stuff to go with them—mouse, keyboard, virus protection, programs, printers, printer ink, paper, and paper shredders.
  
• Presents for friends and gadgets for our households.
• Services from doctors, dentists, lawyers, accountants, cleaners, plumbers, and handymen to name a few.
  
• Insurance—car, home and medical, of course—but don't forget all of those extended warranties.

Our options for buying clothing, prescriptions, toiletries, furniture, toys, artwork and thousands of other products is never ending...

And for every item on the list, there are dozens, if not hundreds, of options. Therein lies the stress—too many choices. We think of having choice as a good thing, and in many ways it is. I certainly wouldn't trade our culture of abundance for the breadlines of the past. But there is a price to pay for all this choice, and the currency is stress.

The good news is that among all of the choices, you are likely to find something that meets your needs, whether it be a good dentist, a new coat, or a college to earn a degree. The bad news is that dozens of small (and large) questions have to be answered before you can ever make a final buying decision. And virtually none of the questions have right answers. There is no way to know whether you have chosen the best or right option, but here are a few rules that can help reduce buying stress, and help alleviate buyers remorse by steering you away from common purchasing mistakes.

Here's How:

Rule #1 — Don't buy. Well, of course, you will buy things, but you'll be much happier and less stressed if you buy less. Start with the mindset: "I have what I need and I'm not buying anything new." Another way to state this rule is "only buy what you really need"—but that's tricky. We're all con artists when it comes to things we want. We come up with all kinds of rationalizations and excuses to justify the purchase. So be honest with yourself...even ruthless!

A friend of mine set a good example when he wanted a new device that would allow him to listen to his iPod through his car stereo. He thought it would be nice to have his own music in the car, and the device cost only $40, which he could easily afford. Plus, he told himself that the new device would let him make better use of the iPod that he already purchased. Makes sense. Most of us would buy it in an instant. But after asking himself, "Do I really need it?" his answer was "No." He certainly wanted it, but when he was really being honest, he knew that he could always listen to the radio (like he had done for the past 30 years (surviving quite nicely, I might add). The new device was a "nice to have" and not something that was truly a need. Two years later, he finally treated himself and bought the device for a six-week road trip through Europe. For him, the length of the trip and foreign radio finally warranted buying the device. The moral of the story—make sure that you really are going to use the item that you want to buy and that you will get a return on investment in terms of value.

I'm not saying you have to wait two years to make a purchase, but try waiting three months, especially for electronics, kitchen equipment, sporting goods and other gadgets. They'll still be there if you decide you really can't live without them. And you can use that time to figure out where you will store the item, and also how you will dispose of it when you're done. Think about the stuff you've carted off to Goodwill over the years, or have sold on Craigslist for a fraction of what you bought it for. I bet if you had a "Wait-3-months rule" you wouldn't have had quite so many trips to the donation center.

The point, here, is that most of us buy way too much stuff. That's why our kitchen pantries and refrigerators are overflowing, why we have closets and drawers crammed with clothes, and spare rooms and garages that you have to wade through to get to the other side. For most of us, we have what we need. Don't buy more.


Rule #2 — Know exactly what you want. When you need to buy something, the problem comes in narrowing down the choices. The first step is to write down what you need and why. This may be trickier than you think, because the rational reasons we want something are often very different from the emotional reasons. Take buying a new pair of reading glasses. On the rational or objective side, you might write down that the frames and lenses must cost under $200 total, they must be comfortable to take on an off, and you prefer wire rims and a subdued color. On the emotional or subjective side, however, you would note that you want to feel powerful and have others take you seriously. The trick is to be crystal clear about exactly what it is that you're after, which means including how you want to FEEL.

Here are some questions to ask yourself:

• Why do I need this item or service? How will I use it? What features does it need to have? (For example, if buying a clock radio, does it need to have an alarm? Does it also need to charge your mp3 player?)
• Why do I really want this thing? How do I imagine feeling after buying it? (I love looking at the modern, sleek design. I imagine lying in bed. I glance at the blue backlit time display and feel calm and happy.)
  
• How much do I expect to spend? What is the absolute maximum? For the alarm clock, will the $15 version at the drugstore be sufficient, or do you want something more high-end?
  
• Can I buy it used (fine if you're buying a vase)? Or does it need to be new (like underwear, for example)?
  
• Usually, extra features cost more. Be clear on which features you need (the clock radio must tell the time and have an alarm with snooze button), which ones you want but can live without (I want it to charge my mp3 player, but it's not critical), and which ones are irrelevant (12 different alarm tones to choose from, who cares).
  

Being clear on what you want, makes finding and buying it much easier.


Rule #3 — Limit Searching. Once you know that you need something and have a list of the requirements, the next step is to go and buy it, right? Wrong. Before you can buy it, you have to find it, and there are too many places to look.

Clothes are a great example. You want a new outfit. Maybe you start at a department store, like Macy's or Nordstrom. You find something you like, but then think, well, let me just see what they have at Penney's. And then you think, I could probably find it cheaper at a discount store like Target or Walmart. And a quick trip to the strip mall wouldn't hurt where I can hit Ross and Marshall's. But this is a special occasion and I have a coupon from Chico's, so maybe I'll just drop in there and also pop into Talbot's, Anne Taylor, and Eileen Fisher. And before you know it, you've run all over town, spent countless hours looking online, and probably bought a number of things you didn't need along the way. Whew! I'm tired just writing about it.

In our effort to find the best product and the best value for money, we spend a lot of time searching multiple options. And the more something costs, the more likely we are to look for additional options. Remember, you want to reduce your choices, not increase them. So when you write down what you want (Rule #2), take another moment to think about which stores or sources you want to visit. Choose 1-3 (depending on how much you like to shop) that are most likely to have what you need, then go get what you need and call it good.


Rule #4 — Be okay with good enough. We want to find the perfect doctor, the best show to go to, or get a rockin' deal on that new camera. There's nothing wrong with shopping for great quality or a good deal, but if you are striving to find the very best, you will always fall short. There will always be another store to check or another service provider that might be better. And while you can and should check reviews, there is no way to know if what you received is the absolute best. You will drive yourself crazy looking for that elusive "best". You can, however, know if you have found something that meets your needs (see Rule #2). So the quickest way to say goodbye to buying stress and hello to happiness is to be okay with good enough.

Oh, if you do manage to go to the worst show in Vegas, or pay double what your friend paid for the same shirt, or your new kitchen gadget breaks the first time you try using it, well, don't sweat it. That's life. We're all bound to sometimes get taken and sometimes get a deal. So, no regrets.

A note on checking reviews: This is an important and easy step, that I recently forgot and regretted it immensely. Simply check Google reviews or Yelp on whatever it is you're shopping for and see what others have to say. And remember to share your own experiences by writing reviews for others. (By the way, if you're going to Las Vegas, skip the show "Criss Angel Believe." Run...hide your wallet...save your time!)


Rule #5 — Make No Time-pressured Decisions. "The offer is good today only. This is the last one available. You must buy today to get the extra discount." Phooey! How about, if you buy under these circumstances, you are making a fear-based decision that you'll likely regret. The instant you hear there's a time limit, pass on the opportunity.

A friend of mine recently bought $15,000 worth of new windows for her house from a salesman who managed to get an appointment with her and her husband at their house on a week night. The salesman was there for five hours, continued to sell while she cooked dinner and put the kids to bed, and finally, when it was late and they were tired, they decided to go ahead and buy to get the extra discount. The good news is that their house eventually needed new windows. The bad news is that windows were not even on their wish list of things to fix on the house or buy for their family.

This rule applies to self-imposed time pressure as well, which often comes in the form of "I want it NOW." You're at the store, that new flat screen TV is on sale, you don't want to leave, come back, and deal with parking again, you really want it...oh, what the heck, just buy it. Poof! There goes your (self)control.

Especially when making larger purchases like new windows and flat screen TVs, see Rule #1 "Don't Buy" and employ the 3-month waiting period. (And if not 3 months, at least a week, or at the very least go home and sleep on it, or send the salesman home so you can sleep on it.) Decide in advance what a large purchase is for you. Maybe it's anything over $100 or maybe over $1,000. Whatever the number, decide in advance and if you are about to buy, step back and sleep on it.


Rule #6 — Don't Agonize Over Small Purchases. For me, if it costs $5 or less and I start the "should I or shouldn't I?" debate, then I just go ahead and get it. Life is too short to stress out about trivial amounts of money. Small and trivial, though, are relative terms. If you're a millionaire, maybe $50, $100 or even $1,000 is small to you. If you're broke, then every penny is a big deal. Most people have at least a little discretionary income, so decide for yourself how much is too small an amount to stress out about.

The point here is not to give yourself license to buy a bunch of unnecessary little stuff. (After all, if you're at the $1 store and buy a bunch of stuff you don't need, then you're in violation of Rule #1 Don't Buy.) But if you run across the random inexpensive item and you're spending time and energy debating back and forth whether to buy it, then save yourself the stress and just indulge. Be careful though at the grocery store where there are lots of small, inexpensive items that could easily collect dust in the cupboards for decades to come.


Rule #7 — Forget About Gas Prices. Gas prices change daily and vary from station to station. Quit thinking about it, and just buy it when you need it from whatever station you're driving by at the moment. Sometimes, you'll drive away and see that another station down the road is selling it a few cents cheaper per gallon. Other times, you'll drive away and find you got a good deal. The money will average out over time, but you'll be way ahead of the stress curve by eliminating thinking and worrying about whether you got your gas at the cheapest possible price.

Rule #8 — No Warranties. When you buy a new TV, they try to sell you an extended warranty. When you rent a car, they offer to sell you insurance. Why? Because companies know they can sell to our fears and make boat-loads of money. Skip warranties and extra insurance. The money you save will more than make up for the one time that something breaks. If you are concerned about extended warranties, then buy insurance for this type of thing or use credit cards with buyers protection - but don't buy both the extended warranty and the buyers protection credit cards. It is double buying insurance.

Rule #9 — Skip Most Coupons. Don't cut coupons, unless it's for a product that you always buy. For example, a friend of mine colors her own hair and always buys the same brand of hair color. When she sees a coupon for it, she cuts, keeps and uses it. That's smart. It's like walking down the street and picking up a dollar bill on the sidewalk—of course you would do that! But would you walk a mile to go pick up $1 on sidewalk that's in a completely different neighborhood? Probably not. Leave it for someone else and go on with your day.

Only you can decide if the time it takes to find, cut, and manage coupons is worth the effort, but if you follow Rule #1 "Don't Buy" just once, you'll probably make up for the money savings you lost by NOT cutting coupons.

Rule #10 — Don't buy with the intention to return. When you buy something, "because I can return it later if I don't like it," you end up less happy with your purchase and with subtle bits of stress as you constantly reconsider whether you should have bought it and whether you should return it. As long as the door is open to return something, you keep making the decision to buy the item over and over again in your mind. Also, you will likely buy more if you are "buying with the intention to return" than if you act as if "all sales are final."

Obviously, I don't mean never ever return anything. If something is defective, then take it back.

A note about small vendors: The little corner gift shop is not Walmart. When dealing with small businesses, be even more careful when deciding to buy. Be respectful and make your sales final, even if they allow returns.


This article started as a way to help myself reduce buying stress and avoid common purchasing mistakes. My new rules are helping me and I hope they help you, too. I'm curious to hear from you and would love it if you would take a moment to comment. Do you agree with these rules? Do you have others that you would add? All questions, comments, criticisms and compliments are welcome.

Happy buying!