Summer time and the living is easy, after the chores are done.

 

Fortunately, most of my financial chores are done. I've reviewed my positions. I've scouted around for other possibilities. I've backup-ed my files.

 

There are some bigger chores that I save for the winter. That's when I do taxes, but it is also when I take inventory. Sometimes I record everything, just like it is described in Your Money or Your Life. Sometimes I simply update the long spreadsheet list adding and deleting major items. Besides the insurance justification, the inventory exercise is a tangible way to be aware of what I own, how I've spent my money, and whether what I have is worth what I paid. It is also a good way to realize that I already have enough pens, or that the only time I open certain boxes is when I do inventory.

 

This is the summer and time for a different inventory. How have I spent my time? How am I spending my time? How do I want to spend my time? Past, present, future.

 

In any life, especially in any adult life, there will be bits of history to celebrate and bits of history to mourn. The bulk of any life though is more likely filled with everyday experiences colored by the consequences of a few significant decisions. I like to take the time to notice how I handled such decisions and choices and to then consider where I am and what I may have to ponder in my future.

 

Taking inventory of a life can be an education or a trap, just like reviewing spending habits can either be illuminating or a compulsion. Analyzing every expenditure produces overwhelming data, but the more valuable aspect is the time spent pulling information and insight from the pile. Knowing every factoid of a spending history is impressive, but only useful is it reveals positive trends to reinforce and negative trends to moderate or abolish. Knowing that I am drawn to buying fasteners like clips, clamps, straps, binders, etc. makes me consider what it is that I am trying to organize. Somewhere back there something wasn't organized. Am I continuing to try to tidy up a room from my past?

 

Luckily, my frivilous purchases of velcro, or what Vicki Robin and Joe Dominguez in Your Money or Your Life call "gazingas", don't add up to much. For some people gazingas are paper clips. For others, gazingas are sweaters. For others, gazingas are houses.

 

So, it is summer, and after my daily chores, I like to spend time on the front porch, enjoying a beverage, considering my life, my emotional gazingas, and the world in general. Winter's inventories require paper, pencil, computers, spreadsheets. Summer's inventories involve sunshine, an open mind, some quiet time, and maybe a sketch pad.

 

So, here's to summer, and if you wander by and see me sitting on my porch, glass in hand, sunshine on my face or hat over my eyes, know that I am hard at work reviewing my inventory - or snoring.