When I am able to be totally honest and open with my family and friends. When I was a young boy, I had a hard time learning this, especially with money. Here is a story that I remember from way back then.

I am eight years old. I am standing in the narrow galley kitchen of our modest apartment in Queens, and my father is seated at the table. That very day, my pals and I have been talking about money; some of them have confided—boasted!—what their fathers do for a living and how much money they make. So as children of that age do, I ask my father how much money he makes. My father does not answer. He just stares at me, coldly and angrily. This silent rage speaks volumes. It tells me that I have approached a figurative high-voltage wire that is dangerous and absolutely off-limits. In a split second, the atmosphere of calm benevolence has been transformed into one of chilling, roiling, and barely suppressed fury.

The effect on me was a two-pronged hammer blow of rejection and fear. Even mature adults aren’t too good at dealing with rejection and fear; for a kid, the whole thing was simply beyond my ability to understand, much less cope with. In the parlance of psychology, I internalized the hammer blow, and that Childhood Money Message—that money was scary, profound, and a very private secret—was almost literally stamped into my subconscious; that day, my personal Money Monster began to take shape. 

Now that I am able to face my money monster, I can accomplish so much more. I have begun my  Cure For Money Madness!

I often face conflict with myself and scheduling. 

Often I arrive just in time for performances—out of breath, heart racing, adrenalin flowing—and then relish my sense of victory…we made it! No matter how mediocre the play or show or concert, I’ll remember crossing the finish line before an usher might say, “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to seat you after intermission.”

 But recently, I’ve been noticing the connection between this behavior and my old style of accumulating money: for years, I was so focused on achieving a million dollar net worth that I never noticed my energy was all about striving and adrenalin, not about what I’d actually do with the money once I had it.

 Flash forward to a recent Saturday.

 I was commanding my minivan, filled with three adults and five kids, en route to Cirque du Soleil, and I had vowed to allow plenty of time to arrive at a sold-out event as expensive as this one.

 The show began at 4pm, and just as planned, we arrived at 3pm with plenty of time to find parking. That’s when my money monster spoke up:  Hey—if you have enough time to avoid the overpriced, designated parking and find off-site parking, why not go for it?  Plus, you’ll avoid the crowd of exiting cars when the show is over…

 I steered the minivan out of the designated Cirque parking and toward a city garage. The first garage we pulled into wasn’t open to the public, and the attendant directed us further down the street. We entered the next garage, got our ticket and parked. The eight of us walked down to the ground floor—only to discover a chain link fence blocking the entrance. After unsuccessfully trying different floors and wondering why the cashier’s office was closed, we saw the sign: Garage open Monday-Friday only.

 A wave of panic flooded us adults, and then the kids got it – we’re trapped. We called the posted emergency phone number and were told to exit through an emergency pedestrian door.  They would send someone out after the show to open the gate—the charge for this service was $100.00.

 We raced to the theater and arrived at 3:55.

During the show, all I could think about was finding away to not pay their $100 retrieval fee.  Then I noticed that the fear and anger around this fee were absorbing my attention much more than the performance I paid so much to attend.

 So I did the opposite of my habitual reaction; instead of ignoring my feelings, I opened to the anger and fear. And what do you know, they were all familiar!  I know this variety of anger and fear very well, because it’s been with me since I was five years old. I did a few money breaths, and my first insight occurred: I don’t know what will happen with the car after the show, but right now, I’m at the show, and I need to just watch it.  I instantly felt my heartburn dissolve. My second insight was this: my anger and fear have nothing to do with the actual garage and everything to do with berating myself for being someone who parked in a closed garaged.

 Then I had yet another insight: maybe the machine malfunctioned and should never have let me in.  In other words, maybe it wasn’t my fault, or anybody else’s fault, either.

 And just like that, I was suddenly free to enjoy the show.  I still had the possibility of losing $100, but I felt full of life. When the show ended, I was determined to find someone leaving the garage, and I did, so I even got to park for free.

 Later, I called the garage owner again and told her I got out.  She said, “I’m glad, because the machine malfunctioned.  It never should have let you in.”