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Rewire for Wealth: Three Steps Any Woman Can Take to Program Her Brain for Financial Success Barbara Huson full chapter instant download
Rewire for Wealth: Three Steps Any Woman Can Take to Program Her Brain for Financial Success Barbara Huson full chapter instant download
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PRAISE FOR
For the last eight years Barbara has been my “go to” money mentor.
She has an uncanny ability to bridge metaphysical wisdom with good
ole-fashioned financial sense. Her work is a potent brew for anyone
who is looking to attain financial freedom on their own terms. Rewire
for Wealth is a soulful journey, one that will inspire you to live the
wealthy life you deserve and can now finally achieve with Barbara’s
help!
—RHA GODDESS, artist, activist, CEO of Move the
Crowd, and author of The Calling
If mastering your money feels daunting, you need this book. Barbara
expertly exposes what could be holding you back with simple,
practical solutions to finally rewire your thinking and truly build a
wealthy life.
—DAVID BACH, 10× New York Times bestselling
author, including Smart Women Finish Rich and The
Latte Factor
Rewire for Wealth is worth every woman’s fierce attention. Barbara’s
long experience and savvy guidance can pay enormous dividends.
—SALLY HELGESEN, coauthor of How Women Rise
Barbara Huson has done it again. By digging into the ways women
think about money differently than men do, she is able to chart a
path toward lifelong security—and wealth.
—JEAN CHATZKY, CEO HerMoney.com
Barbara Huson has done it again—only this time, better than ever!
She weaves personal stories with the most cutting-edge
neuroscience to help each and every woman reach her greatest
financial potential, with heart and humor. This book is a must-read
for anyone who wants to enjoy the experience of wealth!
—REGENA THOMASHAUER, founder of Mama
Gena’s School of Womanly Arts and author of New York
Times bestseller Pussy: A Reclamation
This book holds a critical missing piece for women when it comes to
true financial empowerment. If you keep finding yourself stuck in the
same financial rut, look no further. Your path to inner and outer
wealth is right here in these pages.
—KATE NORTHRUP, bestselling author of Do Less
Copyright © 2021 by Barbara Huson. All rights reserved. Except as
permitted under the United States Copyright Act of 1976, no part of
this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by
any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the
prior written permission of the publisher.
ISBN: 978-1-26-046424-5
MHID: 1-26-046424-5
The material in this eBook also appears in the print version of this
title: ISBN: 978-1-26-046423-8, MHID: 1-26-046423-7.
TERMS OF USE
Acknowledgments
PART I
Awakening
1 Kicking the Habit
PART II
Rewiring
4 The Rewire Response
PART III
Hardwiring
8 Power Tool #1: Resistance Work
Notes
Index
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’ve heard it said that you can only go as far as your self-image will
allow. Which explains why I spent most of my life in a heavy
financial fog. Had I known then how to reprogram my distorted
beliefs, I could have avoided years of struggle, frustration, and pain.
I write this book hoping my experience, and the subsequent
research I’ve done, enables you to confidently and joyously create
wealth, well-being, and whatever else you desire and deserve. I can
tell you, after being out of the fog for over 30 years, it’s a seriously
intoxicating high.
AND SO IT BEGINS . . .
The roots of our raising run deep.
—MERLE HAGGARD
I was groomed to be financially clueless. Not because of some
malevolent plan my parents devised. But they, like their parents
before them, and all preceding generations, were unconsciously
conditioned by the prevailing norms.
Shortly after I graduated college, with a degree in art history, my
dad took me to lunch in Kansas City, where I grew up. The city is
famous for its fantastic barbeque. Over a heaping plate of ribs at his
beloved Arthur Bryant’s, my father came straight to the point.
“So, Barbara, what’s next for you?” he asked.
“I’m going to apply to Berkeley, get a PhD in art history,” I told
him excitedly. “And then I’ll become a college professor.”
Teaching had always been in my blood. When I was little, my
favorite game was playing school with my two younger sisters. And
of course, I was always the teacher. Every summer, my family rented
a house on the boardwalk in Atlantic City and I’d organize a day
camp for the neighborhood kids. Naturally I was the head (and only)
counselor.
However, my dad had other ideas for me. As he bit into a rib, he
murmured, “That’s nice,” wiping the sauce from his mouth with a
large paper napkin. “But you can do that anytime. Right now, at
your age, it would be much smarter to get married and start having
kids.”
Despite my eagerness to go to grad school, I was unable to
disagree with him. I worshipped my father. And it was, after all, the
late 1960s. A woman’s place was in the home unless she needed a
paycheck. Even then her choices were severely limited. Growing up,
I was not permitted to work, even to babysit like all my friends. The
only job I was allowed to take (unpaid) was during my senior year in
high school as a receptionist at H&R Block, serving coffee to waiting
clients. My father, Richard Bloch, founded the business with his
brother, Uncle Henry, so he had considerable pull. And I was
overjoyed because the job allowed me to skip my afternoon classes.
I was never encouraged to go into the family business like my
male cousins. And whenever I asked my dad about money, he
always gave me the same advice. “Don’t worry,” he’d say, quite
lovingly. He really didn’t want “his girls” to fret over finances. In his
mind, my sisters and I would always have a man and an inheritance
to support us. Truthfully, I loved that advice. I didn’t understand
money, and thankfully, I didn’t need to (or so I thought).
I came home from our lunch that day and still applied to Berkeley.
But soon after they rejected me, by a twist of fate (or more likely, a
wired neuropathway), I met my future husband on a family vacation.
And indeed, a year after we married, I had a dark-haired baby girl,
Melissa, who looked just like her handsome Israeli father.
But alas, motherhood failed to satisfy my yearning for . . . I had
no idea what. All I knew was I wasn’t happy. The solution seemed
obvious. I tried to have another baby. But it didn’t happen, and,
according to the doctors, I would never give birth again.
I was devastated. Having children was what I was born to do, at
least according to my parents. In hindsight, however, I’m convinced
that my inability to conceive was my Soul’s wisdom pointing me in
the direction of my destiny.
I became severely depressed, though I doubt anyone knew. I hid
it well. But I was hurting badly. One night, lying in bed, an idea
dawned on me. Grad school would be the perfect distraction. Art
history, however, no longer interested me. I got out of bed, found
the local university’s class catalog on my bookshelf, and started
leafing through it. As the sun was rising the next day, I had decided
to get a master’s degree in counseling psychology from the
University of Missouri in Kansas City. I honestly don’t know why I
chose that subject, but I suspect it was out of my own desire for
personal healing. This time, I was accepted.
My depression began to lift. Life was looking up. While I was still
in school, we adopted a beautiful baby girl, Julie, and I volunteered
at the University’s Women’s Center until they promoted me to a
salaried position. Though the pay was paltry, I was overjoyed. The
rapidly growing women’s lib movement gave me (along with
countless other dissatisfied housewives) permission to enter the
workforce and actually get paid. My parents weren’t happy, but they
grudgingly acquiesced. However, my dad told my husband he didn’t
want me talking about my job at family gatherings. That stung even
as I obeyed.
I eventually opened my own business, The Career Management
Center, helping what was then referred to as reentry women
discover and pursue their passion. I vividly remember my
embarrassment when my very first client left without paying. Asking
for money felt horribly wrong and terribly uncomfortable. But I
forced myself to speak up after that.
I was finally happy and fulfilled. Until the night, arriving home late
from work, I walked in the door to find my mom, dad, and husband
sitting silently in my living room, looking quite somber.
“Sit down, Barbara,” my dad said ominously. “We need to talk.”
I sat down tentatively. The tension was unbearable. I listened, in
shock, as he told me that my husband had asked him for a loan to
buy a house we’d fallen in love with. When my dad grew suspicious
since I had a generous inheritance, my husband, a stockbroker, was
forced to admit he’d lost much of it in the market, making wild bets
on options, like puts and calls.
“Barbara, did you know your husband is sick?” my father
screamed. “Did you know he’s an addict, a gambler?”
I remained surprisingly composed in the face of his fury. “Yes, I
know,” I lied with aplomb. But inside, I felt humiliated, stunned,
ashamed to admit I had no idea.
“If you can’t get your husband to stop,” my dad said, yelling so
loud I was sure he’d wake up the kids, “I will take away your trust.”
“What if I managed the trust?” I meekly replied.
We looked at each other incredulously. Both of us knew the idea
was absurd.
After my parents left, my husband and I sat in quiet shock for
quite a while.
“I promise, I’ll never do it again,” he weakly murmured the most
familiar words spoken by every addict who ever lived.
From that day forward, my parents never mentioned my
husband’s addiction again. And even though I’d find out many times
over the ensuing years that he was gambling (and losing), I still let
him manage the money. That’s how scared I was and how
incompetent I felt. I kept hearing my father’s voice telling me, in no
uncertain terms, that making and managing money is a man’s job.
He was a product of his generation. And it seemed I was a product
of my gender.
After 15 years, I finally filed for a separation. Not because of my
husband’s gambling but because he became physically abusive. I
desperately wanted to stay married. I was petrified I couldn’t make
it on my own. My lawyer, however, handed me the divorce papers
and insisted I sign them. I grudgingly agreed. Yet even after our
divorce, I refused to deal with money. It wasn’t my thing, I decided.
But as I would soon discover: If you don’t deal with your money,
your money will deal with you. Sure enough, I got tax bills for well
over a million dollars, for illegal deals my ex had gotten us in behind
my back. Of course, I didn’t have anywhere close to a million dollars.
At this point, my ex had left the country, and my father wouldn’t
lend me the money. By then I also had three daughters (Anna, my
miracle baby, was born right before our divorce). I was utterly and
completely terrified. But I also knew I had no choice. Financial
avoidance was no longer an option. I was not going to raise my girls
on the street.
I had no idea how I’d do it, but I was utterly committed, with every
fiber of my being, to get smart about money. Little did I realize that
my commitment to learn would flip on the rewiring switch in my
brain. But significant progress would be excruciatingly slow in
coming.
I tried reading financial books, going to classes, subscribing to
newsletters. Nothing changed. I’d fog up and glaze over, proving to
myself that my father was right. I felt hopeless, helpless, and
completely alone. I no longer spoke to my parents, and my ex was
out of the picture. I prayed desperately to God. “Help me get a grip
on my finances. For my daughters’ sake, if not for mine.” God,
however, didn’t respond. I felt abandoned by Her, too.
One day, in the checkout line at the grocery store, I was
mysteriously drawn to a conversation two people were having
behind the person behind me. They were discussing A Course in
Miracles (ACIM). I learned it was a self-study spiritual text published
and sold at a home a few blocks away from where we’d just moved
in Tiburon, California. I bought a copy that day and hungrily began
consuming every word, hoping to find solace within. The Course is a
difficult read, and I struggled to understand it. Still, I sank into its
pages like a lifeboat headed toward calmer seas. Where it took me,
however, was actually quite disturbing (though ultimately liberating).
“Everything that seems to happen to me, I ask for and receive as
I have asked,” the Course told me.
Huh? That felt terribly harsh coming from the Divine. No way had
I asked for tax bills I couldn’t pay. Or a husband I couldn’t trust. But
the Course insisted, “I am not a victim of the world I see.” Or put
another way: “I am doing this unto myself.”
I was aghast. How could this financial debacle possibly be my
doing? Clearly, my husband was the bad guy here and I the ill-fated
victim. Nonetheless, I was determined to change.
I made an appointment with a therapist. “Please help me get a
grip on my finances,” I begged him. “I really want to get smart.”
What he said next seemed to come straight from the Course and
went straight to my core.
“No you don’t,” he challenged me. “You really don’t want to get
smart about money.”
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
Barclay’s Refutation of Astrology.
Astrological superstition, it is said, transcended from the
Chaldeans, who transmitted it to the Egyptians, from whom the
Greeks derived it, whence it passed to the Romans, who, doubtless,
were the first to disseminate it over Europe, though some will have it
to be of Egyptian origin, and ascribe the invention to Cham; but it is
to the Arabs that we owe it. At Rome, the people were so infatuated
with it, the Astrologers, or, as they are called, the mathematicians,
maintained their ground in spite of all the edicts to expel them out of
the city[11].
The Brahmins introduced and practised this art among the
Indians, and thereby constituted themselves the arbiters of good and
evil hours, which gives them vast authority, and in consequence of
this supererogation, they are consulted as Oracles, and take good
care they never sell their answers but at a good price.
The same superstition, as we have already shewn, has prevailed in
more modern ages and nations. The French historians remark, that,
in the time of Queen Catherine of Medicis, Astrology was in so great
repute, that the most inconsiderable thing was not undertaken or
done without consulting the stars. And in the reigns of king Henry
III. and IV. of France, the predictions of Astrologers were the
common theme of the court conversation.
This predominant humour in the French court was well rallied by
Barclay in his Argenis, lib. ii, on account of an Astrologer who had
undertaken to instruct king Henry in the event of a war then
threatened by the faction of the Guises.
“You maintain,” says Barclay, “that the circumstances of life and
death depend on the place and influence of the celestial bodies, at the
time when the child first comes to light; and yet you own, that the
heavens revolve with such vast rapidity that the situation of the stars
is considerably changed in the least moment of time. What certainty
then can be in your art, unless you suppose the midwives constantly
careful to observe the clock, that the minute of time may be conveyed
to the infant, as we do his patrimony? How often does the mother’s
danger prevent this care? And how many are there who are not
touched with this superstition? But suppose them watchful to your
wish; if the child be long in delivery; if, as is often the case, a hand or
the head come first, and be not immediately followed by the rest of
the body; which state of the stars is to determine for him; that, when
the head made its appearance, or when the whole body was
disengaged? I say nothing of the common errors of clocks, and other
time-keepers, sufficient to elude all your cares.
“Again, why are we to regard only the stars at his nativity, and not
those rather which shone when the fœtus was animated in the
womb? and why must those others be excluded, which presided
while the body remained tender, and susceptible of the weakest
impression, during gestation?
“But setting this aside, and supposing, withal, the face of the
heavens accurately known, whence arises this dominion of the stars
over our bodies and minds, that they must be the arbiters of our
happiness, our manner of life, and death? Were all those who went to
battle, and died together, born under the same position of the
heavens? and when a ship is to be cast away, shall it admit no
passengers but those doomed by the stars to suffer shipwreck? or
rather, do not persons born under every planet go into the combat,
or aboard the vessel; and thus, notwithstanding the disparity of their
birth, perish alike? Again, all who were born under the same
configuration of the stars do not live or die in the same manner. All,
who were born at the same time with the king, monarchs? Or are all
even alive at this day? I saw M. Villeroy here; nay, I saw yourself:
were all that came into the world with him as wise and virtuous as
he; or all born under your own stars, astrologers like you? If a man
meet a robber, you will say he was doomed to perish by a robber’s
hand; but did the same stars, which, when the traveller was born,
subjected him to the robber’s sword, did they likewise give the
robber, who perhaps was born long before, a power and inclination
to kill him? For you will allow that it is as much owing to the stars
that the one kills, as that the other is killed. And when a man is
overwhelmed by the fall of a house, did the walls become faulty,
because the stars had doomed him to perish thereby; or rather, was
his death not owing to this, that the walls were faulty? The same may
be said with regard to honours or employ: because the stars which
shone at a man’s nativity, promised him preferment; could those
have an influence over other persons not born under them, by whose
suffrages he was to rise? or how do the stars at one man’s birth
annul, or set aside, the contrary influences of other stars, which
shone at the birth of another?
“The truth is, supposing the reality of all the planetary powers; as
the sun which visits an infinity of bodies with the same rays, has not
the same effect on all, as some things are hardened thereby, as clay;
others softened, as wax; some seeds cherished, others destroyed; the
tender herbs scorched up, others secured by their coarser juice: so,
where so many children are born together, like a field tilled so many
different ways, according to the various health, habitude, and
temperament of the parents, the same celestial influx must operate
differently. If the genius be suitable and towardly, it must
predominate therein: if contrary, it will only correct it. So that to
foretel the life and manners of a child, you are not only to look into
the heavens, but into the parents, into the fortune which attended
the pregnant mother, and a thousand other circumstances utterly
inaccessible.
“Further, does the power that portends the new-born infant a life,
for instance of forty years; or perhaps a violent death at thirty; does
that power I say, endure and reside still in the heavens, waiting the
destined time, when, descending upon earth, it may produce such an
effect? Or is it infused into the infant himself; so that being
cherished, and gradually growing up together with him, it bursts
forth at the appointed time, and fulfils what the stars had given it in
charge? Exist in the heavens it cannot; in that depending
immediately on a certain configuration of the stars; when that is
changed the effect connected with it must cease, and a new, perhaps
a contrary one, takes place. What repository have you for the former
power to remain in, till the time comes for its delivery? If you say it
inherits or resides in the infant, not to operate on him till he be
grown to manhood; the answer is more preposterous than the
former; for this, in the instance of a shipwreck, you must suppose the
cause why the winds arise, and the ship is leaky, or the pilot, through
ignorance of the place, runs on a shoal or a rock. So the farmer is the
cause of the war that impoverishes him; or of the favourable season,
which brings him a plenteous harvest.
“You boast much of the event of a few predictions, which,
considering the multitude of those your art has produced, plainly
confess its impertinency. A million of deceptions are industriously
hidden and forgot, in favour of some eight or ten things which have
succeeded[12]. Out of so many conjectures, it must be preternatural if
some do not hit; and it is certain, that, by considering you only as
guessers, there is no room to boast you have been successful therein.
Do you know what fate awaits France in this war; and yet are not
apprehensive what shall befal yourself? Did you not foresee the
opposition I was this day to make you? If you can say whether the
king will vanquish his enemies, find out first whether he will believe
you.
Des Cartes and Agrippa, as they inveigh much against some other
sciences, especially Agrippa, so the latter of them does not favour or
spare astronomy, but particularly astrology, which he says, is an art
altogether fallacious, and that all vanities and superstitions flow out
of the bosom of astrology, their whole foundation being upon
conjectures, and comparing future occurrences by past events, which
they have no pretence for, since they allow that the heavens never
have been, nor ever will be, in one exact position since the world
commenced, and yet they borrow the effects and influence of the
stars from the most remote ages in the world, beyond the memory of
things, pretending themselves able to display the hidden natures,
qualities, &c. of all sorts of animals, stones, metals, and plants, and
to shew how the same does depend on the skies, and flow from the
stars. Still Eudoxus, Archelaus, Cassandrus, Halicarnassus, and
others, confess it is impossible, that any thing of certainty should be
discovered by the art of judicial astrology, in consequence of the
innumerable co-operating causes that attend the heavenly
influences; and Ptolemy is also of this opinion. In like manner those
who have prescribed the rules of judgments, set down their maxims
so various and contradictory, that it is impossible for a
prognosticator out of so many various and disagreeable opinions, to
be able to pronounce any thing certain, unless he is inwardly
inspired with some hidden instinct and sense of future things, or
unless by some occult and latent communication with the devil. And
antiquity witnesseth that Zoroaster, Pharaoh, Nebuchadnezzar,
Cæsar, Crassus, Pompey, Diatharus, Nero, Julian the Apostate, and
several others most addicted to astrologers’ predictions, perished
unfortunately, though they were promised all things favourable and
auspicious. And who can believe that any person happily placed
under Mars, being in the ninth, shall be able to cast out devils by his
presence only; or he who hath Saturn happily constituted with Leo at
his nativity, shall, when he departs this life, immediately return to
heaven, yet are the heresies maintained by Petrus Aponensis, Roger
Bacon, Guido, Bonatus, Arnoldus de Villanova, philosophers;
Aliacensis, cardinal and divine, and many other famous Christian
doctors, against which astrologers the most learned Picus Mirandola
wrote twelve books, so fully as scarcely one argument is omitted
against it, and gave the death blow to astrology! Amongst the ancient
Romans it was prohibited, and most of the holy fathers condemned,
and utterly banished it out of the territories of Christianity, and in
the synod of Martinus it was anathematized. As to the predictions of
Thales, who is said to have foretold a scarcity of olives and a dearth
of oil, so commonly avouched by astrologers to maintain the glory of
their science, Des Cartes answers with an easy reason and probable
truth, that Thales being a great natural philosopher, and thereby well
acquainted with the virtue of water, (which he maintained was the
principle of all things,) he could not be ignorant of the fruits that
stood the most in need of moisture, and how much they were
beholden to rain for their growth, which then being wanting, he
might easily know there would be a scarcity without the help of
astrology; yet if they will have it that Thales foreknew it only by the
science of this art, why are not others who pretend to be so well
skilled in its precepts, as able to have the same opportunities of
enriching themselves? As for the foretelling the deaths of emperors
and others, it was but conjectures, knowing most of them to be
tyrants, and hated, and thereupon would they pretend to promise to
others the empires and dignities, which sometimes spurring up
ambitious minds, they neglected no attempts to gain the crown, the
astrologers thereby occasioning murders, add advancements by
secret instructions, rather than by any rules of art, which they
publicly pretended to, to gloss their actions and advance the honour
of their conjecturing science: by the same manner might Ascletarion
have foretold the death of Domitian, and as for himself being torn to
pieces by dogs, it was but a mere guess, for astrologers do not extend
their predictions beyond death, and therefore he did not suppose his
body would be torn to pieces after his death, as it proved, but alive as
a punishment for his boldness in foretelling the death of the
emperor, which being a common punishment, had it proved so, it
had been by probability from custom, but not of the rules of
astrology.—See Blome’s Body of Philosophy, pt. iii. chap. 14, in the
history of Nature.
ON THE ORIGIN AND IMAGINARY
EFFICACY OF
AMULETS & CHARMS,