If you come across a 2003 Ford Escort Black Coupe with Connecticut license plate number 693SHU, please don't let me know. Since it was stolen from my assigned parking place during the early hours of June 25th, I have experienced "salvation."
Yes, I am now completely freed of my soul-killing compulsion to please others, particularly with an energetic gush signaling my enthusiasm for them, their ideas, their success, their dreams. Since 12-step programs teach the perils of people-pleasing and I have been a member of sundry varieties of them for more than three decades, I should have gotten that wisdom down cold. I didn't. But now I do.
The tipping point for saving what was left of my soul might be from the freedom that comes with the loss of my last material possession. During the crushing hit to the communications industry post-9/11, I had lost my business and nest egg. I sold my house to pay off debt.
So, I assumed I had been washed clean of my former craving for more. At one time I had owned a McMansion of sorts in Fairfield County and a cottage at the Jersey shore. It was not enough. I was earning in the top five percent of ghostwriters. It was not enough. I had three dogs and seven cats. That was hardly enough.
I never realized that it was the car, with all its 80,000-something miles on it, that was holding me hostage to sucking up, in order to "get ahead." Perhaps dancing in my unconscious were dreams of a new car, a better car, a car with a driver in a uniform, including the cap.
But it had to be the car. After I schlepped on two buses to fill out the police report and binged on trail mix with chocolate and cashews I could care less about anything material. I made up my mind to earn enough to support me and the three remaining cats, pay off the remaining debt, and have dental implants. The rest of my time would go into writing. For me. For the world. For other damned souls who can't stop wanting more.
Of course, people who stop caring about stupid things like prestige, money, and four wheels are the most scary folks on planet earth. Since yesterday morning, I have managed to collect on all accounts receivable, get three new assignments at the fee I determined was fair [read Geoff Colvin on that in "The Upside of the Downturn"], and lo and behold did not feign excess interest in anyone or anything.
The epiphany: I have everything I need. Less might not be more. Nothing might be everything.