I'll have another order of fries.
I’m sitting at a table of 6.
4 Mexicans, 1 Argentine-turned Mexican, 1 American-investigating-what-it-might-be-like-to-turn Mexican. We are gathered together in front of a projector screen to cheer on the hopeful Mexican National team in what will turn out to be their final attempt at advancing in the 2023 World Cup.
Don’t worry, I’m not here to talk about sports.
I’m here to talk about something that I have been working through and digging really effing deep to eliminate. Which is that all-too-cute buzzword (buzz phrase?) of LACK mentality.
I know I have it, I know there are tools to shift it, I can’t pretend that this road to mental (and tangible) riches isn’t littered with cumbersome boulders.
The thing is, sometimes I forget that it requires hard work to break this pattern and it’s just so much easier to fall back into the “I don’t have enough…” mindset. So easy, in fact, that I don’t even realize I’m back in it until I’m faced with a steaming hot platter of thickly-cut, exquisitely browned, mouth-watering french fries.
I love french fries. In fact I love anything potato-based (except Polish vodka, vodka hasn’t sat well with me since my regular abuse of the spirit in high school) but french fries really rock my world.
Anyway, here is this giant plate of them and it’s closer to the three of us lucky enough to be sitting on the left side of the table. We each divebomb for handfuls and I feel compelled to offer what’s remaining to the three souls sitting on the right side. I turn to the woman next to me and ask if she wants to take more before I give them away.
“No it’s okay. If they finish them, I will just order more.”
Dude (Guey).
Do I even need to articulate that it NEVER CROSSED MY MIND to “just order more” if this plate didn’t survive the opposite side of the table? Somewhere in my psyche I assumed that these fries were the only fries in the entire planet available to us at this moment and when they ran out (which they DEFINITELY would) we would never see fries of this caliber again.
The location in my psyche in which this assumption resides is completely unknown and unreachable to me. If I knew where this limiting thought lived, I’d kick it the F out of its house. Evict it. Exile it forever.
But I don’t know where it lives and here I sit in a world of limited french fries.
When her words cut through me, sharp and sterile as they were, I felt utterly relieved. My shoulders relaxed. My face softened. I felt a bit like dancing. There’s more! More fries! More of everything! More clients to sign, more places to see, more men to date, more friends to meet, MORE MONEY TO MAKE AND TO SPEND FREELY!
When I feel lack, (if I remember) I like to look at how much of everything there truly is.
How many museums there are in Mexico City.
How many trees there are in South Pointe Park.
How many pores there are on my skin.
How many stitches there are in my shirt (or tiny holes, if the shirt is from Zara).
How many drops of water there are in the sea.
How many grains of sand there are on the beach.
How many stars there are in the sky (especially in a place like New Mexico where you can actually see them).
How many people I’ve met in my life.
How many tomatoes there are in the market.
How many airplanes are flying at any given time of day or night.
Anything I really want or need, there’s more of it. An abundance of it. So much of it that it’s hard to wrap my mind around, and it becomes easier to think there’s NOT enough of it which is why I don’t have it.
And to get it, the first and most critical step is to believe and understand that it’s out there.
To prove to myself that it’s out there, there is one very important thing that I absolutely must do.
Next time I’m at a restaurant, any restaurant, I will freely and happily order more fries.
And I hope you do too.
With love,
Bethany
