31 Jan

Before the Creative Process

Your Best Investment Yet

‘I’m going to invest in me.’

Did you feel a bit uncomfortable just reading those words? I know I did in writing it.

Investing   in   ME.
Doing something with the intention that I will personally grow, benefit, expand from.

The word itself makes one feel a little squirmy because it involves things that might be uncomfortable.

No guarantees.
Uncertain outcomes.

You know—like ‘what if I do this and nothing good comes of it?
What if I show up and find that I don’t fit in at all?
What if, what if—I’ve wasted my time and money and I’m back to square one?

Those thoughts are enough—some/many/most times— to keep us safely on the side of not investing. (Yes, we can invest in someone else’s dreams, BUT let us not risk any chips on the table to gamble on us.)

You know what I think?
I think the hidden fear behind investing is a sneaky belief that just maybe we aren’t worth it.
Maybe we should just slog on as we are because it’s just us and it doesn’t really matter if we don’t invest in us. Who are we anyway, to be spending time and money on?
Man, those sneaky beliefs can certainly foul us up when it comes to living our lives full out.

‘Cause for sure, not all investments ‘appear’ to pan out (more on that later…) BUT the obvious reward for when they do can be like winning the lottery (or having bought Amazon stock in the ’90s which is pretty much the same thing 😉 )

I have, despite the fear, actually invested in little old me over the years.
Often due to prompting from those who believe in me much more than I do (yay for those peeps!).
Admittedly, sometimes I’ve just pulled the trigger and invested in myself after a particular, short-lived burst of confidence—just enough to slingshot me through the fear of not enough-ness—before retreating to my ‘I’m not worthy’ habitat.

I’ve invested in ‘me’ via workshops, books, art supplies, friendships, do-nothing days, cats, fresh flowers and gardens, lily ponds, old dishes, deep conversations, hours spent sitting at the edge of the ocean and …well, you get the picture.

Investing in workshops involved risks of feeling inadequate.
Investing in books and supplies meant sure shame if I somehow failed to actually use them.
Investing in friendships involved risks of vulnerability.
Investing in do-nothing days involved risks of failing in my duties as a wife, mom, sister, daughter.
And on it goes.

Curiously, many investment type things I’ve done haven’t involved money (sometimes, I’m convinced, that would have been way easier! Throw money at the fear, and maybe it will go away 😉 )
The bigger elephant in the room was the investment of time.
Committing to making time for me.
The one thing that even money can’t buy, so it seems all the more precious and fraught with the fear of wasting it.

What I’ve learned so far is that investing in ourselves IS an act of self-love.
 It’s a commitment, an acknowledgment of the worthiness of our life path.

I’ve more to say on this in my next post–with some suggestions for how you can begin investing in yourself–but until then, know this…

You are worth investing in.
Every inch of you.


Summer Roses Dreama Tolle Perry

Summer Roses, 8 x 10in oil on museum quality panel


Dreama Tolle Perry Log
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