Earlier this week, I had a snack of beets and blueberries. The blueberries came first, and then I enjoyed a few slices of beet. I felt satisfied but decided to cleanse my palate with a few blueberries. Immediately afterward, I noticed that I felt hungry again. How strange! I can’t tell you exactly why this happened, but I can you I won’t be following beets with blueberries again.

I shared this interesting observation with a friend of mine, and she suggested that “beets and blueberries” sounded like the title of one of my blogs, so as I drove home, I considered what the related message would be.

Fairly quickly, I was reminded that just as it’s important to put healthy foods into our bodies, it’s important to put healthy, life-giving thoughts into our minds.

Too often I observe clients and friends and myself entertaining negative thoughts – as if it’s no big deal.

So what, I called myself a dummy. I do it all the time.

We got stuck in traffic … it was a disaster.

Today’s going to be a long day, I can already tell.

While we are not able to stop all negative thoughts from coming into our minds, we do have a choice in how we respond to them. We can embrace them and hang out like old pals, or we can let them float on by.

Did you know that your brain responds to stimuli similarly – regardless of whether it comes through your optic nerve (i.e., from something tangible that you see) or from your imagination (i.e., something you think)???

Thoughts and mental visualizations cause physical changes in our brains. The more these are repeated, the more the experience is etched into our brains. Our brains will then work to resolve the cognitive dissonance – that is, the difference between where we are now and what we imagine or think.

For example:

where we are now = not a dummy       vs.

what we imagine or think = a dummy

Over time, our brains will work to make our thoughts become a reality.

So, our thoughts do matter. In fact, they matter very much.

What thoughts are you going to let feed your mind today?

There’s a song by Relient K called High of 75. It’s been a favorite of mine ever since it came out a few years ago. I was reminded of this song today as I stepped outside and felt invigorated by the beautiful blue-sky, spring-like weather day.

I like High of 75 for at least two reasons (in addition to its cheerful beat).

1) is because Spring is my absolute favorite season. For me, you just can’t beat blue skies and warm weather. 65-85 is my favorite temperature range. So this song is about my kind of day.

2) is because it speaks to the importance of hope. The chorus starts out “And now I’m sunny with a high of 75 since You took my heavy heart and made it light.”

Hope is priceless. It keeps us pressing on despite present circumstances.

There was a study of hope that involved rats. In the first part, a rat was placed in a tank of water, and the researchers measured how long he would paddle (i.e., how long before he gave up. And yes, the little guy was plucked out at that point.) In the second part, the procedure was the same except that the paddling rat could now witness one of his rat buddies getting rescued from the water in which he was paddling.

The researchers found that the rats in the second scenario paddled for a significantly longer period of time. Why, you ask? Because seeing his buddy rat getting rescued gave the little guy hope that the situation wasn’t doomed – that if he persisted, he, too, could be rescued.

Hope is priceless.

So I ask, who are your wet rats??? Who helps encourage you? Who feeds your hope?

No man is an island. We are wired for community.

If you’re in a stuck place, I encourage you to reach out for help. Reconnect with friends. Let them know what’s really going on. Put down the “Everything’s fine” mask.

If you need professional help, get it. But don’t let that substitute for the development of authentic friendships.

I once heard a pastor say that friendships are like bridges – different ones can sustain different levels of weight. It’s great to have “5-ton friendships,” but we need “10-ton” and “20-ton” friendships, too, as life can get heavy at times.

You could get hurt. It’s true. But it’s worth the risk. Who knows, you could connect with another wet rat, who could help feed your hope.

See if you can top this … My Dad got a new knee for Christmas.

The old one had been bothering him for years. For several years, over-the-counter meds and strengthening exercises helped and enabled him to delay surgery. Then he tried injections of a lubricant gel that is derived from chicken combs. And this, too, provided some relief and delay. But eventually, he could no longer postpone the inevitable. It was time for a knee upgrade – to “Knee 2.0.” Knee 2.0 is a stainless steel replacement that will, after rehabilitation, allow him to walk in comfort for decades to come.

I saw my Dad a few weeks ago, just after the 28 post-operative staples were removed. He was walking with the assistance of one crutch, yet there was a gleam in his eye that said the pain of the process was worth it, and he eagerly anticipates the renewed sense of freedom he will have thanks to the knee pain being vanquished.

This tangible truth is mirrored in the intangible world. Sometimes we carry thought patterns with us long after they have exceeded their useful life.

Once upon a time, they may have worked for us. They may have even helped us survive. But in our present circumstances, they are no longer necessary or desirable.

Let me start with a simplistic example. “Don’t talk to strangers.” Did you hear that one as a child? Indeed, at certain points in life, such directives may have kept us safe. But as an adult, do you still let that shape your daily interactions? Probably not. So why is it that other messages seem to stick, even though they’re just as out-dated?

How about this one – “You will never amount to anything.”

Even as we transition into adulthood, gain more influence over our world and our choices, some messages stay ingrained in us. So much so, that we never stop to question if they are true, accurate, or applicable. They can be like white-noise – stealthfully shaping our day-to-day decisions without even registering at a conscious level.

Sometimes we can get by for a time – despite their presence. But how much freer might we live if we were able to discard these worn-out lies for something more suiting – something true and life-giving?

Just like my Dad’s knee surgery, this is a process, and it may involve pain. But in the end, you can be set free.

The first step is to become aware of your inner dialogue. For some, these thoughts are like Old Faithful. When we get tired, stressed, angry, or lonely, we know what’s going to pop up. Others aren’t as obvious. So become an investigator. When you feel dis-ease whirling around inside of you – take a seat and observe your thoughts. Listen for old worn out messages and write them down.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll walk you through the process of challenging distorted, worn-out, painful thoughts and lies. I hope you’ll join me for the journey.

Last night, while I was brushing my teeth, a few thoughts that had been spinning around independently in my head bumped into each other, and I had a point of clarity. Let me elaborate …

Thought 1: I’ve recently been reading The Secret Language of Money and Your Money & Your Brain. Each book references research, which found the anticipation of a reward can be more satisfying than receipt of the reward itself. The reason is because once the reward is attained, the chemical process of anticipation is extinguished.

Thought 2: Since my husband, Robbie, has been out of work since February, and I’ve been building up a new private practice while preparing to launch a second company next year, this year’s Christmas budget has been paired back. So that we can continue to give to others, we decided to pass on exchanging gifts ourselves. Robbie asked for reassurance that I would not be disappointed. I assured him that I would not be disappointed but admitted that I may miss having a surprise to enjoy. Inwardly, I was saddened by the thought that I could possibly be disappointed at not receiving something material (which I could definitely live without) to mark the celebration of the day mankind received the one gift it cannot live without – a Savior.

Thought 3: Yesterday I met with a personal trainer to mix up a lower body resistance training regimen, which had become boring. For grins and giggles, he took me through a new core workout first, and then we went through a lower body routine. It included only two new exercises, but these would target a wider range of muscles. During the first new exercise, I was a bit wobbly, so Forrest pulled me aside for an exercise that would activate a specific glute muscle. Sure enough, after that, my form was better. It was amazing.

So last night as I was brushing my teeth, I was experiencing a precursor to the pain I knew I’d feel today, from targeting muscles my previous routine had let rest. As I pondered what insight this lesson in the physical realm could shed on the intangible spiritual realm of life, the above three thoughts collided.

If I want my experience of Christmas to reflect the joy of the gift of Jesus and the joy of giving to others – without being diminished by the distraction of materialism – I need to keep my “Christmas muscle” activated.

How can I (we!) do that? To start, I can let my daily quiet time keep directing me back to the true meaning of Christmas. I can stop adding busyness to my schedule, so that there’s more time to relax, reflect, and enjoy. I can beef up my attitude of gratitude through active reflection on the blessings constantly poured down upon me, and by telling and showing others that they are a blessing to me. I can continue to seek ways to simplify my daily life so that its maintenance is less of a distraction. I can sit and gaze at the Christmas tree, cuddle up to Robbie, and enjoy the soothing purr of kitties on our laps. I can finish setting up our nativity collection – beautiful, visual reminders, of the true gift of Christmas, which never fades or fails – Jesus Christ.

Indeed, each time I sit or stand today, I know that something is different. The simple changes made to my exercise routine have already begun to create a new experience among my muscles.  And I’m encouraged that with a little intentional tweaking – to continually activate my Christmas muscle – this year and this Christmas will continue to be one of the best yet.

What will you do to activate your Christmas muscle?

My husband and I recently started a media fast. No radio or MP3… No TV or movies… No internet surfing… No newspaper or magazines… You get the picture.

Since music is one of my favorite means of mood-alteration, I knew this part would be challenging. At first, my body seemed to revolt against the quiet in my car. Reflexively, time after time, my hand would rise to turn on some tunes. Even for an introvert like me, it was strange how foreign quietness had become.

TV, newspaper, and web media have not been hard to avoid. I’m not a big fan of TV. We don’t even have cable. And I regularly abstain from the (bad) news in order to promote my mental health.

Today I got a “freebie” at church – worship music – awesome! Then we ran into Starbucks. When we got back into the car, the silence was almost deafening. When did noise and clatter become the norm?

We also went to Costco, and my eyes were drawn to the mesmerizing flicker of the TV screens as we walked in. (Product placement – yes.) At the grocery store, as I awaited check out, I was bombarded by magazines hyping the trials and tribulations of the rich and famous. When did it become normal to be accosted by so much (needless) information?

As I write this, our cat Rutledge is sleeping on my lap; it’s a priceless moment. I hear the gentle breeze of the heat blowing through the house. And I hear my husband thoughtfully laying down pieces to the puzzle we cracked open a few days into the fast.

While giving up Christmas tunes has been a sacrifice, I wouldn’t trade this experience of a media fast for a dozen renditions of O Holy Night. The gift of quiet has been returned to us, and this silent night has caused me to wonder what our new normal will be.

According to a survey by the National Retail Federation, the average American plans to spend $682.74 on holiday-related shopping this year. If the recent past is any indication, the majority will put these purchases on credit cards, and almost half will take up to six months to pay them off.

To help keep this a season to be jolly and not a season for folly, before you do any shopping, do this …

Prepare a Spending Plan. Individually list each expense (such as “Gift for Mom” or “Decorations”) and assign each a dollar limit.

Track every dollar spent and be accountable to your Spending Plan.

Use a cash envelope system to help you stick to your Spending Plan.

Leave credit cards at home.

Research purchases in advance.

Shop only with an Accountability Partner (not a Shopping Buddy).

If you are hungry, angry, lonely, or tired – HALT! These can trigger us to overspend or purchase impulsively.

(For more holiday tips, see Consider This.)

An online network to which I belong has recently been discussing how to define financial health. In thinking about how I’d define financial health, I considered that it’s a measure of our relationship with money, and I wondered what metaphor I’d use to describe my relationship with money.

It occurred to me that I’d like my relationship with money to be like that of a gardener and her tools.

I like this metaphor, because the tools are helpful, but they aren’t necessary. Actually, the gardener isn’t even necessary. There are beautiful natural fields, forest, and gardens all around the world that no human helped create. Seeds are spread by wind, animals, and water. The earth is watered by rain and snow. The sun rises and sets, even with no humans around. And the beauty is amazing.

Yet, still, I have the option to participate. To gather or purchase seeds or seedlings. To plant them, tend them, and watch them grow. Sometimes I use a spade, but in its absence I could get by with my hands. I supplement the rains with a sprinkler or watering can, but I could let them fend for themselves; let only the drought tolerant survive. I snip off dead flower heads, but I could leave the dried heads for the birds to dine on or to fall to the ground and become compost.

I like how a gardener’s tools compliment her work, but they aren’t necessary for it. They can make a project quicker or less of a chore, but they themselves aren’t a thing of beauty. They can accentuate and promote the wonder that’s inherently there and provide inspiration and enjoyment for others and myself, but they can’t make the seed sprout forth new growth. They can’t make a sunflower rise from an acorn. They can’t stop a maple from dropping its leaves in the fall. They can, however, help me to engage and celebrate the life that surrounds me. They let me co-create with the Creator.

How about you? What metaphor would you like to be descriptive of your relationship with money?

I recently heard on the radio a segment about the names of animal groups. A journey of giraffes. A leap of leopards. A charm of hummingbirds. I wondered how people came up with these names and who got to name them. How cool would that be to get to name a group of animals?!?!

So why is it that the names of trusts tend to be chosen by the attorney – without any input from the client  - and based on the applicable tax acronym or technique?

Why is it that the purposes, hopes, and dreams, which likely led to the trust’s creation, are mentioned nowhere in the legal document – even though the “Four Corners Rule” limits the interpretation of trust provisions to the information included in the trust document and to the exclusion of external factors? What a missed opportunity (to say the least).

I am grateful to John A. Warnick, an estate attorney, for his pioneering effort to help other estate attorneys move beyond boiler-plate legal documents and their inherent limitations – and to create a Purposeful Trust^TM.

One small but significant part of a Purposeful Trust^TM is the use of a meaningful name. John A. estimates the average beneficiary of a dynasty trust will receive close to 300 quarterly trust statements during his or her adult life. Each of these statements will reference the trust by name, which creates 300 opportunities to remind the beneficiary of the (non-financial) purpose of the trust.

Simple? Yes. Powerful? Yes!

Below are two examples of purposefully named trusts – and the explanation, which would be included at the beginning of the trust document. The first is an example provided at the Master’s Level Intensive and copyrighted by John A. The second is one that I wrote, during the Intensive, for a trust for which my husband and I have provided.

Read these and consider the power of a name…

Smith + Jones Legacy Trust

We have chosen the surnames of both my wife and myself and the word “Legacy” to frame the name of this trust. Each surname should remind the beneficiaries of the powerful heritage they have received from both sides of our family. The “+” between the two surnames emphasizes the synergy we feel our family generates because these two family lines came together with our marriage. The word “Legacy” with a capital “L” signifies something deeper than the legal definition of legacy. A legacy in the eyes of the law is money or property bequeathed to another. To us Legacy not only signifies the wealth transmission side of this trust instrument but it also represents the values that have come to us from previous generations. We hope the name of this trust will cause the beneficiaries to not only appreciate the value passing on to them but that they will always regard the values which were in large part responsible for our family’s financial success as a “Legacy” which they should build on for those who follow them.

Sweet Babes Trust

We have chosen Sweet Babes to frame the name of this trust. It symbolizes that our “pets” were always considered our kids and an integral part of our family. Like many other families, our kids were a part of our greatest pride and joy, and sharing their lives was one of the greatest blessings granted us by God. Accordingly, we wish to provide for all their wants and needs for the rest of their precious lives.

What message would you want to live on through a trust you create?

As difficult as it is to believe, the busiest shopping day of the year is just over one month away, and Christmas is barely two months off. So, even though my closet is still filled with Capri’s and sleeveless blouses, my thoughts have begun to turn toward the Christmas season.

Apparently, I’m not the only one, because just today the National Retail Federation released the results of their 2009 Holiday Consumer Intentions and Actions Survey.

Consider this … According to the 2009 ARF Survey, the average American plans to spend $682.74 on holiday-related shopping this year. If the recent past is any indication, the majority will put these purchases on credit cards, and almost half will take up to six months to pay them off.

Consider this … Instead of the glitz and glam of shopping and gifting, what if this year was more about connecting in new ways with those we love?

Consider this …

If you could not simply buy a present, how else could you show you care?

How might you show love and thoughtfulness without giving a typical gift?

What new tradition might you start – instead of a gift exchange?

In what way might you volunteer together – to give back and support your community?

How might you honor those you love through a gift to those less fortunate – locally and / or globally? [One of my favorites is Heifer International.]

Consider this … How might this year be the year you begin to make more of a difference – for yourself, your loved ones, and your community?

By the time this posts, I’ll be in Colorado for Purposeful Planning^TM’s Masters Level Intensive Training Program. The recommendation to attend came out of a phone conversation with Courtney Pullen, a well-known and well-respected family wealth counselor. I had contacted Courtney to see how he came to develop this specialty, and to see how I, too, might continue the process of utilizing the skills and experiences of my first career, in wealth management, in my second career as a licensed professional counselor. Courtney recommended the Intensive as the best next step in this process.

His description of the program deeply resonated with my passions for philanthropy, legacy, and authentic living. But since I launched my private practice earlier this year, its training budget is not yet in line with the cost of traveling to and attending such a program.

A firm believer in “it never hurts to ask,” I inquired of Courtney if scholarships were available. He was not sure but knew Barb Culver could answer this question for me.

In a matter of days, I got the glorious news that the four faculty members had come together and offered to sponsor my attendance, so that the majority of my tuition would be covered.

I cannot express how humbling the experience was. To have 4 individuals, who have never met me – and only one which has ever spoken to me – offer such a generous gift so that I could take advantage of such a wonderful and timely opportunity, is amazing. I am filled with gratitude. That is why, in the most public way I know how, I want to offer my most sincere thanks to the Purposeful Planning^TM Faculty:

Barbara A. Culver, CFP, CLU, ChFC, AEP

Terry Hunt, EdD

Courtney Pullen, MA, LPC

John A. Warnick, Esq.