Never Poor Enough

I didn't qualify for aid when I attended college.  Fortunately, my parents made enough money to buy me an education that introduced me to an intellectual life filled with book-reading, beer-swilling, poetry-slamming, tube-pulling, beach-combing, idea-sharing, and Dead-touring.  Along with the fun, I did do the academic work and though I did not emerge a true scholar, college vindicated what I had known all along: my suburban up-bringing was comfortable and soulless.  Thus, the genesis of the struggle between my material and spiritual self.  

My process of individuating from my parents and their perceived,  provincial life was extreme; while most just leave the nest for a job, an apartment and a sex life, I had to leave on a quest.  I hit the road to find a great tattoo artist, shack up at an intentional community, groove to a hot show, connect with a guru, or climb a sacred mountain  (Aren't they all sacred afterall?). Oh, and did I mention that I had to be contrary? 

After living "seasonally" for years, it was time to get responsible.  Graduate school beckoned. It was time to pay for school again, but this time my parents weren't paying. So I did the next (perceived) responsible thing: I took out a huge student loan. I nobly studied Environmental Education, a field that is not guaranteed to bring a return on one's scholastic investment.   

Upon graduation, I paid.  And paid, and paid.  I'm still paying, twelve years later.  After my daughter was born and I took a pay cut to have a maternity leave, I petitioned the loan company  for "economic hardship. "  (This is when you don't pay OR accrue interest--a good deal.) The representative asked me if I might be able to make less money as I was $25 over the qualifying income!?  Bitch.  And recently, my husband and I discovered that we are too broke to refinance our house but too rich to qualify for any of those nifty, new government programs.  Somehow, despite all of my adolescent effort to escape my middle-class background, I just can't seem to get poor enough. 

In this recession, many people are writing about the "involuntary simplicity" ideology they are forced to adopt. My husband and I were active in the voluntary simplicity movement years ago, which now seems humorous: only someone with resources or access to them would even consider such a notion as voluntary simplicity.  You wouldn't consider advising a single mom in the ghetto to "down-size", "simplify", or "right-size." Shit is pretty straight simple when you're broke. Not that I disregard spiritual asceticism; I would just prefer to pray dressed in organic cotton, fasting on raw organics and Pellegrino.  I have reconciled my membership in the ranks of the Bohemian Bourgeousie with my religious aspirations.  I understand that my preference to have a bio-diesel Airstream rather than an Escalade is really just a matter of taste and is a subjective, value judgment. 

 

Where I came from, you were "poor" or "wicked, fuckin' poor" or worse, you were from Lynn or Revere.  I do not confuse abundance with monetary wealth, nor do I confuse it with class.  I know that I am only cash poor.  Having the opportunity to acquire a student loan puts me out of the global, poverty spectrum. Most women in the world probably wish that some micro-lending European will enter their village and set up some arts cooperative just so their daughters have a shot at becoming literate.  I have two cars, two laptops, two healthy children, two bottles of wine in my kitchen.  An ark of abundance.  I have family. I have friends. I am smiling. I am grateful. I am happy.  I am not crying poormouth. I have angels.  

The Buddha would say that my desire creates my suffering. But really, it's my debt.  Every world religion admonishes against debt. One cannot attain realization trapped under a debt. But what if one's debt is for something necessary like food?  Or in my case, for schooling?I chose to borrow the money and my one regret is that I didn't borrow from the mob; they would have had a better interest rate.   Capitalism could be the easy target to blame here, but so what?  That doesn't feel helpful. I can't change which way the wind is blowing but I can change my sails. It seems my lessing for today is that "less is more" especially when it comes to student loans.  Until my loan balance is less, I'll just keep paying and I'll try to do it joyfully.  I'll be grateful that I attended graduate school at all  and I will refrain from writing, in the subject line of the check, "Kiss my fuckin grits, you asswipes. " which I am inspired to do every month because I know that the Buddha would advise against that, too.