The Signal: The Spell of a Weekly Money Date
- Julie Miller
- 2 days ago
- 5 min read
Updated: 2 days ago
Disclaimer: I am not a financial advisor. I am not a financial advisor, money expert, banker, or filthy rich.
What I am - is a woman living on a single income in a society that glorifies consumption while quietly normalizing debt.
We live in a world where spending is celebrated, credit is easy, and when money gets tight, we're often told the answer is to skip the latte, buy day-old bread, or simply "be more disciplined."
Money is still one of the last taboo conversations.
It carries shame.
Embarrassment.
Guilt.
Regret.
None of those emotions improve our financial situation.
They simply convince us to look away.
I know because I lived there.
This isn't a story about getting rich.
Honestly, it isn't even a story about getting out of debt.
It's about learning to have a healthier relationship with money.
Because for years, I didn't.
My bank account reflected that.
My credit score reflected that.
But the truth is, it wasn't because I simply wanted more things.
It was depression.
Grief.
Overwhelm.
Avoidance.
When life felt heavy, spending became easy. Looking at my accounts became impossible. Every unopened statement carried more shame than the last, and every month I convinced myself that somehow, someday, Future Julie would figure it out.
She never did.
Because avoidance has a way of becoming expensive.
The Day I Stopped Looking Away
In early 2019, I realized something.
If my financial life was ever going to change, it wasn't because I would inherit money or win the lottery.
It was going to change because I stopped being intimidated by something I had given entirely too much power. (Read that sentence again.)
So one morning I made a cup of coffee.
Grabbed a notebook.
Took a very deep breath.
And opened every single account.
Without judgment - or at least trying my best not to judge myself - I wrote down four things for every debt.
The total balance.
The minimum monthly payment.
The payment due date.
The interest rate.
No budgeting app.
No color-coded spreadsheet.
Just honesty.
When I finished, I was staring at nearly $30,000 in consumer debt spread across the pages of my notebook.
Instead of closing it, I turned to a fresh page.
At the top I wrote:
I am in a healthy, co-created, and respectful relationship with money.
Then I wrote two goals.
Pay off every dollar of consumer debt - not including my mortgage - within two years.
Never allow shame to keep me in a position where I believed I had no options again.
Those weren't really financial goals.
They were relationship goals.
The numbers mattered.
But the relationship mattered more.
So I made a plan.
Part of that plan became something I still practice today.
Seven years later.
My Weekly Money Date
I call them Money Dates.
They aren't something I squeeze into the week if I remember.
They live on my calendar.
That hour belongs to me and my future.
When it's time, my phone goes on silent.
I make a cup of coffee.
Sometimes I light a candle.
Sometimes I pull a tarot card and ask,
"What does money want me to notice this week?"
Then I open my notebook.
Log into my accounts.
And before I look at a single number, I pause.
I say thank you.
Thank you for every dollar I earned.
Thank you for every dollar I saved.
Thank you for every dollar that paid my mortgage.
Thank you for every dollar that bought groceries, filled my gas tank, kept my lights on, paid for medication, or made it possible to share a meal with someone I love.
Even the dollars leaving my account receive gratitude.
Because every dollar has a purpose.
Every dollar is doing a job.
Only then do I begin.
Some weeks my money date takes fifteen minutes.
Some weeks it takes an hour.
I review what was spent.
What's coming due.
What I've saved.
Whether subscriptions still deserve a place in my budget.
Whether my spending reflected the life I'm intentionally creating - or simply the mood I happened to be in.
I celebrate the small wins.
I notice where I want to make different choices next week.
There is no punishment.
No shame.
No lecture.
Only information.
Because information gives us options.
Avoidance takes them away.
The Spell of a Money Date
I often say that every ritual is a spell.
Not because it changes the world overnight.
Because it slowly changes us.
For the last seven years, this weekly money date has been one of the most powerful spells I've ever practiced.
Not a spell for wealth.
A spell for awareness.
For stewardship.
For gratitude.
For confidence.
Every week I returned.
Every week I paid attention.
Every week I chose curiosity instead of shame.
Looking back, it wasn't one dramatic financial decision that changed my life.
It was hundreds of tiny ones.
One quiet hour.
One notebook.
One candle.
One cup of coffee.
Again.
And again.
And again.
That's what rituals do.
They don't ask us to become different people overnight.
They quietly shape who we become by asking us to return.
What Changed
Today the consumer debt is gone.
But that isn't the part I'm most grateful for.
I'm grateful that I no longer believe peace only comes after achieving some perfect financial milestone.
I still buy the latte.
I still buy a candle or a book.
I still drive through the car wash because taking care of what I already have is part of stewardship, too.
Those simple joys were never the problem.
Shame was.
Avoidance was.
The outcome wasn't just paying off debt.
It was freedom.
Not the kind sold in advertisements.
The quiet kind.
The kind that comes from opening your bank account without panic.
The kind that comes from knowing exactly where you stand.
The kind that says, Whatever this number is, I can work with it.
Money no longer feels like something happening to me.
It feels like something I actively participate in.
That may be the greatest gift these weekly money dates have given me.
Not financial perfection.
Not unlimited money.
Confidence.
The confidence that I can look at any number without fear.
That I can make a plan.
That I can adapt when life changes.
That I have far more influence over this part of my life than I ever believed.
Because empowerment isn't having unlimited money.
It's knowing you can face whatever is in front of you without looking away.
Tiny Ritual
Schedule your own money date this week.
It doesn't need to be an hour.
Fifteen minutes is enough.
Put it on your calendar.
Silence your phone.
Light a candle if you'd like.
Pour your favorite drink.
Before opening your accounts, place your hand over your notebook or keyboard and say:
I am in a healthy, co-created, and respectful relationship with money. I choose curiosity over shame. I choose awareness over avoidance.
Then simply look.
Not to judge yourself.
Not to fix everything today.
Just to become familiar.
Because every healthy relationship begins by showing up.
And perhaps that's the most powerful spell of all.
Next in The SIGNAL
We've shifted the relationship.
We've stopped looking away.
We've begun practicing stewardship instead of shame.
Next, we'll create a home for abundance.
Join me for The SIGNAL: A Money Jar & Abundance Altar, where we'll gather simple ingredients, meaningful symbols, and intentional rituals to create a space that reminds us wealth isn't just something we hope for—it's something we tend.
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