A Debt Story (Part Two)
WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE FREE? How do we move through the world with a sense of personal agency—with the belief that we have choices? How does debt fit in? Some people argue that using debt is smart and strategic. They talk about interest rates and points and rewards—but those of us who have experienced the suffocating discomfort of an overleveraged life have a radically different experience and understanding.
When debt becomes unmanageable, it is easy to feel stuck, trapped, and alone. So, let’s start here: You are not alone. It is possible to live without debt. The shift in behavior and mindset takes time, but it can be done. If you are working on becoming debt free, or you’re in the middle of the process and feeling overwhelmed, I want to encourage you to keep going.
Where it begins
Debt is sold to us aggressively, and it’s marketed as a prize. Think about the language we use: a person is “awarded” a loan. “Congratulations! You did it! You’ve won!” That’s the energy around loans and credit cards when they land in our hands. For many of us, this is where the confusion begins. Is it a prize to owe money?
We’ve heard people praise the value of using debt. They argue that it’s better to use “other people’s money” while you leave your own money in the bank. What’s interesting is that some of us try to use this logic when we don’t have money in the bank. When you’re using debt for survival, or to maintain a lifestyle that is not supported by income, you’ve entered a different realm. The physics changes. The math changes. The risks are higher.
Debt becomes the proverbial banana peel in your path. All it takes is an unfortunate shift in events—a decrease in income or an “unexpected expense”—and it’s easy to slip and fall behind. From there, it gets harder and harder to catch up.
We know how it goes: borrowers borrow, and interest accrues. The amount borrowed climbs—and interest accrues on the new amount. It’s a nice, healthy bundle for the lenders, a profitable arrangement. The borrower, on the other hand, gets accustomed to digging a hole that gets deeper and deeper. Soon, the sunlight begins to disappear.
When you’re using debt for survival…you’ve entered a different realm.
All of us are doing a dance with life. We exist in several places at once. On one hand, we have choices to make, and ultimately, we are responsible for those choices. On the other hand, there are cultural and systemic realities that shape our choices and affect the way we see ourselves. We are individuals, but we also belong to communities: we are family members, neighbors, and friends. We navigate all of these realities simultaneously when it comes to our financial decisions.
If you are in trouble with debt, let your harsh blame and regret melt a little. Borrowing is marketed heavily as a bright idea and a solution to our problems—so the fact that we borrow is not surprising. Debt may work for some people, but it’s not for everyone. You know it’s not for you when it generates a crisis.
Grave origins
If you are overwhelmed by debt, you may have the sense that someone “owns” you. I think about this a lot. I’m interested in the archetypal significance of slavery: how coercion, compulsion, ownership, and obligation operate in modern life. The relationship between debt and slavery has historical roots.
Nearly ten years ago, I watched a PBS documentary called Slavery by Another Name. I’ve watched this film many times over the years. I feel the echoes of something every time I watch it. The film describes “peonage” also known as debt slavery. In peonage, people were forced to pay off their debts through labor.
The relationship between debt and slavery has historical roots.
Systems of forced labor use debt as an organizing mechanism. Sharecropping was a system based on debt and owing. Peonage was another. Modern iterations, such as the contractual obligations described by artists in the entertainment industry, point to the same formula: you owe me, and therefore, I own you. There are even more brutal examples. You’ve seen how a “debt to society” relates to forced labor if you’ve watched Ava DuVernay’s documentary, 13th.
First the debt is created. Then, the lender/owner/master collects the spoils of the debtor’s fresh, daily labor. This is how debt has been used. Debt justifies the control and ownership of people—our time, bodies, and labor. In the case of peonage in the 19th and 20th centuries, these “debts” came into being through questionable means: violations, abuse, and manipulation were at play.
Is it radical to draw a line between peonage and modern-day consumer debt? Maybe—but for those of us who are overwhelmed by staggering credit card debt, underwater in our homes, or swimming in debt from student loans, it’s useful to pause and connect the dots. When debt spirals out of control, we lose our freedom and our peace. We may become aware that our entire lives are shaped around our financial obligations. For most of us, the entry points into debt are less harsh and terrifying than they were for our ancestors, but the scent and residue of peonage are still in the air.
A weird mirage
Conversations about debt and peonage are not just about money; they are also about time. In many ways, debt negates our efforts in the present, and diminishes the growth we can experience in the future. People who were trapped in arrangements such as sharecropping and peonage worked for up to 20 hours a day, yet they were still no closer to freedom. Their debt simply recycled and multiplied in a horrifying hamster wheel.
We may never fully understand the harrowing conditions of slavery, sharecropping, or peonage. Still, there’s a hopelessness that creeps in when we’re knee-deep—waist-deep—in debt. Our labor and efforts lose value to us. For our lenders, it’s “Mwa!” chef’s kiss. We hand the spoils of our labor over to them, while keeping only a nominal amount for our own survival.
Going numb
Why do we say yes to debt, even when we know the hazards? In the modern world, there’s an idea that debt is helpful. It does fulfill a need, but not the one we think. If life is frustrating, if we don’t have what we want and need, if our hard work leaves us feeling exhausted and we still don’t have enough, we may welcome the numbness debt brings. When we’re in pain, numbness provides temporary relief.
Debt dulls the sting of reality. It numbs sensation. It blunts our experience of what’s real and true in this moment. It delays the natural reckoning that comes from making decisions to spend and acquire. Spending feels good, but it also represents the loss of something we once had—or maybe the transformation of something we had into something else. Debt gives us a convenient buffer: we can get the pleasure of acquiring without the pain of loss.
I do somatic and embodiment practices each day. I’ve begun to notice that all constriction shares a certain quality. All cravings share a certain quality. All numbness shares a certain quality—whether it’s junk food, binge-watching, or retail therapy. We leave our bodies for a while.
Debt takes us out of the present moment. We “kick the can down the road” and delay the natural reckoning that comes with facing reality. If we’re maxed out on debt, we’re probably maxed out on reality too. It’s possible to build capacity for a new way of thinking and being.
Cash is the opposite of debt
So, how do we do this? First, let’s understand the thinking that helped us get here. Debt allows us to avoid unpleasant realities. We can delay payment, and “payment” takes many forms. We delay disappointing someone or admitting to a mistake. We delay owning up to a need or having an uncomfortable conversation. We delay taking a risk or solving a problem in a new way. Debt allows us to hold our current picture of the world in place—and do things the way we’ve always done them—for a little while longer.
Cash is the opposite of debt. For obvious reasons, a cash-based life can be uncomfortable. It’s not a popular choice, and it’s easy to understand why. In a cash-based life, you confront the edges and limits of your present-moment reality. In this present-moment place, there may be grieving to do. There may be sadness, anger, frustration, and resentment.
Paying off debt is not only financial. There’s a deeper energetic component.
In my second book, What You Know, I mention the fact that we need resourcing while we are doing the work of facing reality. In my own life and in my coaching practice, I blend somatic work, inquiry, and contemplation with financial practices. Whether you integrate therapy, spiritual practices, metaphysical work, coaching, physical exercise, bonding with friends, or gathering with like-minded people into your process, please put pieces in place to support you.
When I was getting out of debt, I listened to Dave Ramsey’s podcast for three hours a day. Sometimes, I went into the archives and listened for even longer. It was October 2015 when my journey began. Dave, his co-hosts, the people who called into the show with their questions and problems, and those who celebrated with their “debt-free screams”—they were my community while I was getting out of debt. I made a lot of radical decisions while I was paying off my debt, and it helped to have that community for support and grounding.
Paying off debt is not only financial. There’s a deeper energetic component. It’s not visible at first, but it still affects us. We need to stay hydrated—install support and care—while we are on this journey.
Your willingness to live a cash-based life is the first step in creating a different experience. It sounds simple, but it can feel like a huge mental shift. Sometimes, the simplest actions are the hardest—and the most powerful.
Coach with me one on one, or read my books. I’m rooting for you. 💙
