Why I got kicked out of meditation class

And why rigid spending rules don’t work

“You can’t lie down here,” she whispered to me in the back of the meditation hall.

I did look odd stretched out on the floor while everyone else sat on their cushions without complaint. But I had my reasons, which I began relaying as she frowned down at me.

Photo by Olegs Jonins on Unsplash

Chronic pain in my neck and arms had sidelined me for over a year. My hands and arms couldn’t function properly, so I was also out of work. Downstairs, to get into the building, I had to wait for someone to press the elevator button because I couldn’t do it myself.

What this glorified gong ringer did not know was that lying down was the only way I could practice meditation with others.

It was the least painful posture available to me. I wasn’t intending disrespect; just getting on the subway from Brooklyn to Manhattan in my wobbly condition felt like its own kind of pilgrimage. But she wasn’t having it and sent me away like an unwelcome thought.

The funny thing about meditation is that you can’t tell what’s going on in someone else’s mind when they’re sitting quietly. They could be dwelling in deep concentration or replaying the intro to Perfect Strangers. Because mindfulness doesn’t look one certain way from the outside. It’s an ongoing practice, not a posture you take. You can practice mindfulness in an attic, on a submarine, and with or without a mustache (confirmed).

Similarly, being mindful about where your money goes doesn’t depend on how much you earn or what your financial life looks like from the outside.

You can make intentional spending decisions at any income level, in any circumstances (even when what you do with your money looks nothing like what your neighbors do).

But nobody has told you this. Instead, they’ve handed you a set of rigid, inviolable rules:

• “Renting is throwing your money away.”

• “Never take on debt.”

• “Buy a used car, don’t lease a new one.”

• “Pay off your mortgage as fast as possible.”

• “Skip the latte or you’ll be dumpster diving in retirement.”

Personal finance has reformulated these basic chords a thousand ways, but this kind of advice is surface level. Any of these might be right for you, but there’s a better way to drive your decisions.

Being mindful with your money means deciding how you want to spend it before you get to the register, before your online cart is loaded.

Be intentional with your money, not just reactive.

As your paycheck comes in, put some of it toward next month’s rent—money you are obviously not putting toward something else. Now ask yourself about that rent: does the flexibility to move when your lease ends feel like a gift? Does not paying for yard care and roof repairs suit you? Or do you wish you were channeling more money into a home you owned? Do you yearn to mow your own lawn?

These aren’t trick questions, and there are no wrong answers. But the act of asking them begins to reveal something important: what you actually value, as opposed to what you think you’re supposed to value.

Most people never ask because they’re too busy following the rules, or too stressed to look closely.

But the moment you start directing your money with intention, your money will show you what you really value.

Maybe you realize that renting feels like freedom and you’d rather put that money toward travel. Maybe you discover that you resent writing that rent check every month and something in you is ready to put down roots. Maybe it’s neither and you realize you just need a bigger emergency fund. All of that is useful information and all of it moves you forward.

With every decision about where to send your money, you’ll feel the pull of the life you want. Listen to that voice, not the scared one telling you to conform or get out of the shrine room.

I’d love to hear from you:
What’s one money “rule” you inherited from family or culture that you’ve since decided doesn’t apply to your life?

Until next time,

Dan