By Mary Lloyd, CEO, Mining Silver

When you retire, you have more time–unless you’ve stuff your days full of whatever comes along so that you can reclaim that all-too-familiar feeling of being too busy to breathe.  What other people expect of all your “extra” time, especially friends and family, can get dicey though.  And the disappointments that come from loved ones not spending time we thought they’d want to spend with us can also be pretty painful.  So let’s take a look at another piece of how retirement changes things:  time with others.

Finding time when you’re retired and your loved ones aren’t is just plain difficult.  The extremes of not dealing with this issue are feeling like a doormat because you’re spending all your time doing what these other people need done or feeling like an orphan because they’re all away doing something else.  They’re among the most unhappy experiences of this stage of life.  Both are avoidable.  They develop when we aren’t paying attention, either to who we really are, what we really need, or both.  So pay attention–to yourself.

We all want to help. especially when it makes difference to someone you love.  But you don’t want to be taken for granted or taken advantage of.  Yes, most of us thrive on being needed.  But that’s different than being expected to carry a load that really isn’t yours.  Taking care of grandkids full-time without pay is being taken advantage of (unless you have a place to live by doing it).  Carrying a heavy volunteer load at church because “You have more time,” is being taken for granted.

Maybe you do and maybe you don’t have “more time.”  Maybe you’re spending every waking moment learning how to build kites–or Not So Big Houses.  Others don’t know what you are really doing with your time–they just assume since you aren’t working, you aren’t doing anything.  And that doing what they need is better than doing nothing.  Don’t agree with them by default.  Speak your truth.  If you want to spend your time that way, say “Yes.”  If not, there’s another word.

“No.”

“No.  I don’t have time for that.”  Or maybe “No, I have other things that are higher priority for me to work on right now.”  In truth, there’s only one word you need to do this well… “No.”  A sweet smile.  A shrug.  And you’ve re-declared your freedom.

It’s harder with aging parents who need a significant amount of help.  Yep.  Those tasks have to be done.  And you might need to be the one to do them.  But don’t do it all if there are others who can share the load.  And don’t buy the guilt trip if anyone suggests that you should do it all because “you aren’t working.”

The bottom line on this challenge is WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO DO?  Be honest.  And then be ready to stand firm while others try to convince you otherwise.  Harriet Lerner does a great job of laying out how to do this in her book The Dance of Connection if you need some pointers.

The other end of the spectrum–when loved ones don’t have time for you–involves dealing more effectively with yourself.  What you are telling yourself about what should be happening?  We retire to “spend more time with the family.”  Too often, “family” is off doing other things and doesn’t have time to spend with us.  What do you do then?

For starters, don’t take it personally.  Young lives are complex and hectic.  Important relationships that aren’t part of the everyday scene can get ignored without any intention of doing so.   When you are available anytime, “tomorrow” seems like a a better day to plan something.

Take a careful look at the possibility this is the case if you are thinking of moving to “be near the kids.”  You move…they don’t have time…you don’t have your old circle of friends.  Pretty soon, the high point of your day is Seinfeld reruns.  If you still want to do it, please start with a trial run.  Find a furnished apartment and spend three or more months where they live.  Then be honest about what you experienced.   Does how it went match what you need?  As a bonus, you can start making friends in the new locale, which will make the transition easier if you do decide to move.

What other people think of your time once you retire can be pretty wrong-headed.  They think they know and they don’t.  Tell them the truth about what you have time for and are interested in.  About what you really want to do with them.  And if they don’t have the time you want to spend with them, no moping!  There are great people who do.  Go out and find them.

By Mary Lloyd, CEO, Mining Silver

This post appears as an article in the November 2008 online newsletter, Put Old on Hold.

I am writing this as Election Day looms—a time when we make some very significant choices. These are big, important decisions and we need to respect them enough to do them well.

But there’s an entire realm of choices we make by default day after day that it might be good to think about, too. What better time than this—when we are focused on “choosing”–to take a look at those.

We make a lot of choices by default because we assume there really isn’t a choice. We assume we have to keep this job because we need a job. We assume we must stay where we are geographically simply because it is where we are.

Making choices this way is the meek way to live. It means you never consider anything beyond what you already know, what you already do, what you are already comfortable with. It also means that you feel “stuck” with what you are doing—a “victim of circumstance” rather than captain of your own destiny.

The truth of the matter is there are always alternatives. Much of the time, they’re so unappealing we never consider them. To be sure, there are some choices where the alternatives are unthinkable and making the choice again and again would be silly. I choose to breathe. Not breathing doesn’t look like a real good idea to me. I also choose to rest, eat, and drive with care. But letting most of your life run on autopilot is cheating yourself.

Decades ago, I was involved in a company program that encouraged women to get into nontraditional careers within the organization. We offered an all-day seminar called “How to Decide.” I wish that class were mandatory in every high school in the country today. Since it isn’t, here are the basics of making good choices:

• Recognize you have a choice. The first step in making a good choice is acknowledging you HAVE a choice. Instead of assuming that what is going on is the only thing that could be going on, make a conscious effort to assess the situation. Ask yourself “Is this the way I want my life to go?” often.

• Generate a wide range of potential alternatives. When you create the list, put down everything you think of, even if it seems silly or unthinkable. Sometimes those “frivolous answers” hold the kernel of a really great alternative.

Here’s an example. Many of us are rethinking whether we can retire because of the rollercoaster ride the financial markets are on. But there are a whole lot of alternatives beyond “doing what I am doing now” and “traditional retirement.” Exploring that broader range of alternatives can offer far more appealing course of action.

• Gather the information you need to make an informed decision. When we do make an effort to consciously choose, this is where we tend to blow it. It’s easy to buy in on information from some website or a friend without thinking about whether it’s the right information or even accurate information. There are TWO pieces to this step–a realistic sense of what the alternatives will and won’t provide AND a clear idea of what you need. Do you need to buy that great but expensive jacket because clothes are terribly important to you? Or are you looking for ways to be properly clothed without wacking out your budget?

• Decide. Too often, we do this “naked”—without a clear idea of what we are deciding and without anywhere close to enough information. And we do it without thinking about the consequences of choosing this particular alternative. A friend bought a dishwasher he hates—because he daughter told him it was the greatest. She’s good in the kitchen and he believed her rather than thinking about what he really needed himself. Now he’s stuck with that dishwasher. That’s small potatoes compared to the career choices that are sometimes made the same way.

Taking the time to choose is usually a time saver, too. The easy way usually ends up costing you a lot more—in time, in money and definitely in personal satisfaction. So choose to choose. And even when what you choose is what you are already doing, the results are dramatic. Choosing reinforces your sense of controling your own life.

Mary Lloyd is author of Bold Retirement: Mining Your Own Silver for a Rich Life and creator of Living Silver a one-day seminar on non-financial retirement planning and the large-page format workbook, Planning Tools for Bold Retirement, based on the exercises in Bold Retirement. She’s working on her next book–about “work after work.” She’s available as a speaker and for customized retirement planning seminars. Her website is www.mining-silver.com. She can be reached at mary@mining-silver.com.

One of the biggest pluses of retirement–at least before we get there–is that we have 100% control over what we do with our time.  But once we have that control, what happens?

All too often, it translates into stuffing anything that comes along into our days and calendars to make sure we are “busy.”  The very thing that we yearned to get away from becomes the modus operandi all over again.  I cringe when people brag “I’m so busy now that I’m retired that I don’t know how I ever had time to work.”  Is that what you retired to do?  Be “busy?”

Going from “not enough time” to “all the time in the world” is one of the big changes that comes with retirement.  As we move through our career years, that eventuality becomes more and more exciting.  But once we get to actually make the transition, an interesting thing happens.  We start to recreate the “crazy busy” of work life with all kinds of commitments and involvement.

Understanding why we do this might be good.  I think it’s a case of seeking the familiar.  We know how to be busy.  We’re not so good at relaxing.  We might also be subconsciously resisting the assignment of “doing nothing” that the current cultural mindset assumes for this stage of life.  (I personally detest that role.)

The first weeks of retirement are easy.  You sleep as long as you want.  You linger over your coffee and actually notice how wonderful it smells and tastes.   You go out in your yard and really see what’s there.  You putter with a plant that needs help or a errant brick at the edge of the patio.  You start to look at travel brochures or check out websites.  But after a while, all this time becomes unnerving.  Then comes the  “I have to fill it with something!” reaction.  That’s when we start saying “yes” to everything that comes along.

“Do you want to join my book club?”  Sure!

“My health club is running a special promotion.  Do you want to join?”  Yeah, that might be fun.

“The volunteer fire department needs volunteers, are you interested?”  I’d love to.

Never mind that you are dyslexic, loathe being a gym rat, and faint at the sight of flames.

So is there a better way?  Yep.

The first thing is to know what you really like to do and where you truly want to put your time. So if you haven’t done that part already, some of that newfound time needs to be spent on learning more about yourself.  Really.

This kind of discovery appears selfish to many, but it’s the kindest thing you can do for yourself, your family, and your community.  When you know what you like and want to do, you end up doing that instead of “anything that comes along.”  People who are doing what they love are happier and healthier.  Plus the community gets the benefit of that focus if you decide to work in some way, either as a volunteer or for pay.

The second piece of a good time management strategy for retirement is to leave room for the unexpected. We need to learn to leave gaps on the calendar for starters.  That, in and of itself, can be scary to many of us.  A blank space is so….empty!  Taking an hour or two might be relatively easy.  But how about a day?  A week?

Try scribbling “save for as yet to be determined adventure” over an entire day.  Then, when that day arrives, do what sounds like fun at that moment.   If you’re really gutsy, try a whole week at it.  Then watch how you actually use that time.  Do you sleep longer?  Read more?  Watch TV that you’re not really interested in because you don’t know what else to do?  If it’s this last one, go back and read the previous paragraph again.  You need to know more about yourself so you can focus on what you truly find enjoyable.

The third step is to find out how you like to structure your time. Predictability is a good thing in the right dose.  All of us need some amount of structure.  How much is your call.  Do you need a morning routine to get your day going well?  Or is it better for you to start the day a different way every day.  (I was going to say “morning” but maybe you don’t get up in the morning.)  Some of us like standing commitments, like a bridge club or golf tee time.  Some of us run from that stuff and always will.  Either way works, as long as it’s your way.

There’s one last piece to this time thing.  How to mesh yours with everybody elses that you care about.  That’s a big set of issues and we’ll save that for next time.

So much changes when we retire.  Our roles in society.  The structure of our time.  The things people ask of us.  The way we set up the week.  How we see ourselves and how society sees us.  What our families expect of us–and think of us.  And on and on and on.  Yet there is little available to get us ready for all these transitions.  As a start at remedying that,  I’m going to explore  some of them in posts from time to time over the next few months.

Before we retire, we look longingly at what is on the sometimes-way-too-distant horizon–the chance to give up all we are doing now and just STOP.  To retire.  When we are running too fast from thing to thing with too much to do and not enough time to get it done, the appeal of this “do nothing” future is unparalleled.

Don’t be fooled.  It’s a mirage.

Doing nothing is no more satisfying that doing too much.  The trick is to do enough and to do it on the right things.  This is where the real treasure of retirement lies.  But it’s not at all like the “do nothing unless I want to” fantasy that we usually leave work with.

What happens when we no longer have to get the work we’ve been paid to do for years done?  If you’ve been doing a job you hated, the loss is truly liberating.  But if there is anything about that work that gave you satisfaction, you will find yourself feeling less about yourself and wondering why.

Odd as it sounds, part of the problem is that we no longer have the authority of the job we did so well.  Yes, authority.  Even if you have been cleaning motel rooms for a living, there was value in what you did and you had the responsibility and the authority to get it done.  You had a role to play that went beyond  “whatever I feel like.”  You had things that were expected of you. And you knew how to do them and do them well.  When you give that up, you might want to put some thought into how you are going to retain your sense of relevance.  And your sense of competence.

For those of us who were in jobs that weren’t particularly satisfying, that “something else” might be a bit easier to latch onto.  My dad spent over 40 years making paper for Kimberly Clark.  What he really wanted to do was write, sketch, and paint pictures.  When he left work–a couple years early because of health problems, these interests carried him the rest of his life–another 24 years.

My grandfather was a different story.  When he retired, he sat down. And pretty much stayed there.  Whenever we went to visit grandma and grandpa, he was in that easy chair, watching television.  He retired from an office job but had owned a successful commercial fishing business earlier in his career years.  He too lived another twenty plus years after he retired.  I use the term loosely though.  What he did with his days was so uninspired that it almost seemed like he had died but forgot to stop breathing.

This is a key piece of why the “extended vacation” model isn’t going to get you what you need as retirement.  It just doesn’t work to be “on vacation” for twenty years.  You lose your sense of direction and your sense of time when you are “gone” for that long.  Remember how hard it is to figure out what day of the week it is when you don’t have things you have to do?  Well, don’t build a life out of that!

Okay, so if you are ready to leave what you are doing and have no idea what about it you are going to miss–and what you want to do instead–does that mean you need to keep working?  Not at all.  It means you need to start paying attention to yourself so that you can start to remedy that information deficiency.

We all have interests, whether we acknowledge them or not.  We all have skills and abilities that give us a leg up on doing certain things.  We have longings that allow us room to find a new source of “being an authority.”  It might be as the builder of doll houses and it might be as the builder of Habitat for Humanity houses, but if it’s you, honoring it will give you the greatest thrill of your life.

So give up the rat race if you can and it’s time.  Give up the workload that keeps you from the rest of what you enjoy.  But find things to learn and become good at that make you have that sense of authority, that feeling that “Yes, I do know a lot about this and I’d be happy to help you with it.”

Below are some thoughts on this question from Bold Retirement:  Mining Your Own Silver for a Rich Life.

Is the next step simply not working? Or do you want to redesign your life so it contains everything you want in the proportions you prefer personally? Are you looking for a rocking chair or a launching pad? A nap or an adventure?

… The Harvard management professor and corporate guru Rosabeth Moss Kanter noted that those now on the brink of retiring are not likely to make this transition quietly as a group. “Having been told from birth about their own significance, they aren’t going to feel less significant simply because they’ve hit a career ceiling called retirement age.” She cites research done by Met Life and Civic Ventures where the majority of the Americans between 50 and 70 who were asked said they wanted to benefit their communities in some way with what they do with their time and/or for a living at this point in their lives. This is only one of the differences between our venerated image of “the golden years” and the reality of what they will be like once the baby boom steps into them.

… But this is a new paradigm and the answer is still in the works. For the time being, those of us asking are going to have to figure it out for ourselves. And since, by this point in our lives, we are all incredibly unique, the answers aren’t going to be the same for all of us. That will be true even when the resources and roadmaps needed to do this smoothly are in place—which they aren’t yet.

These answers are probably not going to be easy to figure out for you specifically either. Why should they be? You might be looking at as much as forty or fifty per cent of your total life span in what remains. What do you want to do with all that? What is important to get done? And how do you want to go about it? How do you LIKE to do things?

These are the more important questions about retirement. The point at which you are well enough off to give up a regular job and rely on the sources of income you’ve secured that don’t require your hours and days is not really “retirement.” It’s just another graduation—like high school and college. Congratulations! You have met all the requirements to be allowed to move on to the next level of life. Like all graduations, this involves a commencement. A beginning.

… “Retiring” provides the chance to exit the current work situation gracefully—usually with at least a partial financial safety net–and begin again, reconnecting with “calling” as the compass for charting a new course.

… For many of us, this phase of our lives will involve more than one “career” and more than one direction, perhaps even simultaneously. … It is also the time of our lives where we owe it to society to model balance in how we go about that. The years are silver because we do good things for others, but they are also silver because we have designed a sterling quality lifestyle for ourselves. We do what we want, but that includes doing good.

For many, that “good” is likely to be on a paid basis. People who get paid to do things tend to have more clout and more credibility than those acting as volunteers. “Work” also provides a better framework for focus and goal setting. But it won’t look like the work we are leaving.

…This is the time to create beautiful lives. Meaningful lives in terms of our own uniqueness. Lives that give those still trudging along in standard career mode inspiration to keep going. It is not about giving up work. It’s about working at what we want, at what we think is important and therefore worth doing. It is also about shaping the work we choose so it doesn’t exclude the other things we want in our lives.

From Bold Retirement:  Mining Yor Own SIlver for a Rich Life, pages 6 to 9.

This article by Mary Lloyd appears in the October 2008 edition of the Barbara Morris online newsletter Put Old on Hold.

How Greed Happens

We have two choices as the US economy convulses. We can point fingers and blame the people most obviously at fault. Or we can get serious about fixing it and admit our own part in this mess. The first option is a victim role—easy and appealing because we’ve given victims an honored place for decades. But it’s not the way out of this mess. To really fix it, we need to understand what made it happen–rather than pointing to a specific “who”–and implement a system of checks and balances so it doesn’t happen again.

This financial debacle is supported by a huge, stinking pile of greed. Greed per Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary is “a selfish and excessive desire for more of something (as money) than is needed.” Yep. We are drowning in a sea of that. It’s not just the sub-prime wizards who are guilty though.

It’s easy to see greed in preposterous CEO salaries. It’s easy to see it in those who “made a killing” selling houses to people who couldn’t afford them. It’s not so easy to see our own greed. But that’s what we have to look at to get this fixed.

Buying things we can’t afford when they’re not essential is greed. Why? Because we’re using that kind of shallow stuff to feel good about ourselves. We think that if we have that, we’ll be “successful.” Martha Beck refers to it as “the shallows” and contends that “the real reason we feel so starved in the shallows is that we aren’t made to be satisfied with material possessions or with concepts of ourselves as famous, noble, smart, handsome, righteous, influential, blah blah blah.”

We are way off track on creating truly satisfying lives for ourselves. Instead of doing what we believe is important, we do whatever makes us money so we can buy stuff. Instead of doing work in which we believe, we sell out so we can keep buying. But filling the hole where meaning belongs with “stuff” is never enough. Or as Matthew Kelly puts it in The Rhythm of Life, “You never can get enough of what you really don’t need.”

What we really do need is a chance to connect fully with other people, a chance to prove our competence in what we do, and a chance to claim our authentic purpose in what we commit our time, effort, and money to. We don’t need the 54” plasma TV. We need to get out there and help someone learn to read. We don’t need a $1000 outfit. We need to find the joy of a real hug.

Greed is a dead end. When we get on that road, we get lost easily. We take the road because it’s got the neon of Madison Avenue pointing the way. It looks “exciting.” But a dead end is a dead end, razzle-dazzle or not. Before we get this mess fixed as a nation, we need to individually chart a better course. We need the high road—of meaning, of integrity, of purpose.

If you are sitting there congratulating yourself because you are debt-free with money in the bank, don’t get too comfy. Martin Luther King warned “Our lives begin the end the day we become silent about things that matter.”

We must say “You’re going the wrong way” to loved ones who are buying things they can’t afford. We need to stop enabling that wrong behavior by giving them money to make ends meet when they can’t. We need to YELL about the self-serving foolishness of offering credit cards to people who are already deeply in debt. There oughtta be a law!

Let’s not assume that this will “correct itself” as lending institutions bear the consequences of their own version of greed—the defaults of the heavily burdened interest-paying creditors they’ve cultivated as the credit situation tightens. We need to do our part, too. Say “No” to greed.

“Stuff” is not the answer. As a nation we need to get back on the high road of integrity and purpose. The view is nicer, it costs less, there’s more true satisfaction, and you sleep better.

Mary Lloyd is author of Bold Retirement: Mining Your Own Silver for a Rich Life and creator of Living Silver a one-day seminar on non-financial retirement planning. She just released a large-page format workbook, Planning Tools for Bold Retirement, based on the exercises in Bold Retirement and is working on her next book, about “work after work.” She’s available as a speaker and for customized retirement planning seminars. She can be reached at mary@mining-silver.com.

Last weekend was Oktoberfest at my local fairgrounds.  It was a bigger deal than I expected–and a much better good time for me personally than you might have guessed.  That Oktoberfest had untold delights.

We got there in the late afternoon when the little kids were still allowed on the premises.  (I live in a state that does not allow children at public drinking sites.)  The music was already oom-pahing along when we arrived–polkas, waltzes, and, of course, the “duck dance” (which no self-respecting adult would do anywhere else).  But the best part about the first two hours was watching the little ones do their thing on the dance floor.  When you reach “grandparent” age, little ones having fun are precious no matter whose they are.  Their dancing is particularly delightful–even when they are just whirling around or plopped in a heap in the middle.

Then there was the tuba player!  A two-time national champion.  He was good.  And I could notice the difference when he played.  I spent eight years in Midwest school bands.  You need that much experience to recognize good tuba playing.

It got better.  The band doing the next set featured an authentic alpenhorn player–a silver-haired sprite of a woman in a dirndl skirt.  How she made 15 feet of wood sound that beautiful was miraculous.  She had experience.

Later in the evening yet a different band, billed as “the Dixie Chicks of the button box,” took the stage. They were good, too.  In a very different way.  They were there for the young adults–who probably didn’t have anywhere NEAR as much respect for the cute little blonde leading the band as I did.  She plays “an accordian”–an instrument scorned by legions even in my home state of Wisconsin.  But she made it hip.  The young dancers had major fun–but so did we.  And yes, they played The Duck Dance–also the Hokey Pokey!

Four days later, I’m still thinking about that good time.  It was a great reminder of what’s good about getting older.  Experience gives you so much more depth to what’s going on right now. Experience reminds you that what was uncool can become cool.  That what seems impossible–like playing sweet haunting notes on a horn designed for goatherds–is indeed possible.  It helps you set wider boundaries and build more solid bridges.

And the best part?  The older you get the more experience you have to work with!  Cool.  So go have some fun–and let yourself enjoy all that it reminds you of all over again.  Life is good!

This post if for those who spend their time and save their money.  I’ve been pretty adamant that people who don’t have the money to pay for it should stop buying things.  For the rest of you, that seems so elementary you’re probably wondering about my sanity.  Right now, you’re probably hunkered down as if tanks had rolled into town, denying yourself the simplest of pleasures even when you can pay for them.  We need a different strategy from you, too.

If you are 95% sure you will outlive the money you already have put away, please consider spending some of it now.  I know, that sounds like lunacy, but the only way to get the economy going somewhere close to the right direction again is to keep commerce flowing.  The free-wheeling folks with the high credit card balances are going to have to stop, but that doesn’t mean you need to.  Please don’t scrimp on food because it FEELS like you need to be frugal.  Please don’t decide to forgo the vacation you can afford–especially if you are going somewhere in the United States.    Please don’t avoid buying what you need if you DO have the money to pay for it.

For me, that’s a scary idea.  In any economic downturn, my first and continued strategy is to cut back.  To not buy anything I absolutely can’t do without.   But if I have the wherewithal, I need to look that fear in the eye and go buy something.  And if you have the cash to do it, so do you.

Those of us who’ve been better at making money than spending it are not as conspicuous.  (Who knows how many of us there are?)  We wear five-year old jeans and a worn tee shirt and focus on doing what we enjoy.  Maybe for you it’s reading or working crossword puzzles or hiking.  Maybe it’s volunteering or spending time with family.   Please get out of your wonderfully effective rut and do something bold.  Spend some money. It can make a difference in whether we back on track as a nation.  Really.

But PLEASE, do not spend it bailing out loved ones who have gotten themselves into credit trouble.  (That’s what a healthy saver would typically do.)  They need to learn the really hard lessons this time around so they stop doing that for good.  Instead, buy something you deserve.  If you do, you win twice.  You get the nice thing, and you help improve the nation’s economic chances.  Or help someone who has maintained good credit.   That’s a double plus, too.

And there’s another benefit in this.  People stay healthier if they can find a way to take action when things aren’t going right.  Wise spending by those who would otherwise pass the money on to grandkids is good action for this dilemma.

If you have money to spare, please make plans to buy something soon.

Good news for those of you who like to write big and take a whole page when you work on an exercise!  We have developed a workbook of the exercises in Bold Retirement: Mining Your Own Silver for a Rich Life.

To live retirement well, you need to have a solid sense of yourself–who you are, what you believe in and love,  how you want to shape your day, where you want to live…the full range of what’s important to you personally.  These exercises help you uncover that.

The workbook, titled Planning Tools for Bold Retirement, is available now on our website for $16.95 plus $2.95 shipping and handling.  Please note: we conduct our purchase arrangements though Google so you can be comfortable it’s a secure transaction.

“…the dessert plate waiting for those who have spent most of their time planning for retirement with a calculator and a financial portfolio.” Chuck Adams, President, Plus 50, Inc.

As our economic situation worsens, the finger pointing escalates.  Of course we need to hold Wall Street accountable.  And in a previous post, I noted Main Street, much as the inclination is to pity the individual debtors as “poor victims,” is every bit as much in the wrong.  But there’s another major “road” in this that we are ignoring.  Madison Avenue.

Since I wrote that post about people buying more than they could afford, I’ve been chewing on what contributed to that behavior.  One of the big “what’s” is advertising.   In this culture, the only way to avoid the impact of paid persuasion is to drop out and live in a cave in Mongolia.  The effort to sell us something is everywhere.  My TV news has more ads than content.  (I timed them.)  That is probably true of most of what’s on TV.  There are ads on the bus.  Ads when you log onto your computer.   Big billboards on your way to work.   Ads on taxis.   Schools are even starting to sell ad space on their walls as a way to pay for programs lost to budget cuts.

And of course, there are the big, beautiful glossy ads in magazines.

So what?

Well…that’s a lot of pressure toward thinking that you really DO need to have–or worse deserve–all those things.  And when there has been too little time spent figuring what really IS important, a person succumbs to that pressure, believing that the magic product just touted in the ad will solve his/her need to feel good about him/herself.  It doesn’t.  But that individual just spent money he didn’t have in many cases.

So let’s add another street to the map of this disaster.   Madison Avenue is in this, too.  We have way too much advertising in this country and far too few means of giving people the chance and the motivation to define their real purpose for being here.  People who live on purpose don’t need all the “stuff.”  People who live on purpose are healthier.  They are kinder and more open to other points of view.  Why aren’t we selling PURPOSE?

It does, of course, come back to Main Street for a solution.  We still have to live within our means–regardless of their level.    We still need to tell those who spend our money “No” when what they want is not within the budget.  We still need to get creative in making ends meet when the money doesn’t go far enough.  But we also need to learn to stop listening to all those damn ads.

If we did, then the value of a PR compaign would go away. Then. to stay afloat, the PR industry would have to provide a real value instead of incouraging irresponsible behavior.  Welcome to Main Street, Madison Avenue!