Fudging and hedging

Oak trees make all the acorns they can, and squirrels gather all the acorns they can. (Image by Ylanite Koppens)

After months of being too bummed out to even look at the numbers, I started budgeting again properly in January.

Of course, numbers are numbers. They are what they are, without emotion. Whether I choose to examine them or not doesn’t change their reality. But if I didn’t pay attention too closely, I didn’t have to deal with them. I didn’t have to deal with reality.

I’ve had this kind of relationship with numbers many times. I wondered how much ice cream I could get away with eating without gaining weight, or how many times I could go out to eat without going into debt. I started getting ready without knowing how long it would take to get to my appointment. I made commitments without being certain that there was time in my schedule to say yes to them, and I set prices in my business without knowing whether the bottom line would turn out to be red or black. If I got a little worried, I would arbitrarily set higher targets for earning and lower targets for spending; if I felt flush, I would relax.

I had the illusion that not paying attention to the numbers would mean that they didn’t have to affect my emotions. But as a matter of fact, the imprecision of my approach meant that my decisions were wholly regulated by my emotions — how much money or time or resources I felt like I had, or didn’t have. When I had all of the necessary information, I was set free. My decisions were sound, and I had a peace of mind that was based in truth, not ignorance.

When I became aware of exactly what was was going on in my life and business, I couldn’t lie to myself. Ironically, my goals were more attainable because they were realistic. I could see exactly what I needed to do to produce a certain result, and exactly how deviating from the plan would change the outcome. The big goals weren’t so far away, and the little inconveniences didn’t derail me.

Now, this is a cycle. Sometimes I lose momentum due to a life event or needing to take a vacation from reality. Sometimes, it’s fully appropriate to stop tracking and go “by feel,” as we often do with sleep, food, and pastimes. But when I become hesitant about making decisions or start trying to control stuff I have no control over, it’s time for a reset. It’s time to start getting precise again instead of fudging and hedging.

Whether you have an irrational scarcity mindset and always feel like you need more — or, like me, an irrational abundance mindset that assumes you’ll never run out — learning exactly what you need is very useful. You can say yes or no with confidence, knowing that your choice is grounded in an honest assessment of the resources that are available. You won’t commit to things out of hubris on or shrink away from opportunities out of fear. You know what you can follow through on and how much cushion or margin is necessary for your well-being.

At this moment, I know exactly how many dollars I need to fund my business operations for the upcoming month and exactly how many hours of work I have to do today. Having already had two breakfasts before the hour of 8:00 AM, I also know that I won’t be having two lunches — unless I count one of them as an early dinner. All the big decisions and reckonings have been made. I can relax.

It’s easy to get caught up in emotion and believe that more is better (or a little more won’t hurt). But I’ve observed that the tendency to be imprecise not only causes anxiety, it’s fueled by anxiety. We eliminate anxiety when we banish the bogeyman from his dark spaces and fill them with light. The numbers don’t have to be mysterious and unknowable — we can pin them down and make them work for us, aligning them with our highest goals and values.

Where have you been hesitant to know the true numbers behind something? Do you tend to err on the side of caution or carelessness? Where do you find that precision is helpful to you? I’d love to hear in the comments.