After The Tax Storm Passes…
Breathing deeply and wishing for a drive to the hills. The anxiety I allowed to grow deep in my belly doing taxes this year, has left me wondering why this year was so different?
Why the uncontained racing heartbeat, the upset stomach, the worry, stress and incessant chatter of that voice that loves to distract me? What had changed? I’ve been at this deadline many, many, mannnny times before and though I drive myself crazy waiting so long, I get it done.
They always get done, those ‘required’ forms with checks attached and no one is upset, except me. I turn into frustrated, sleepless, agitated, aggravated, impatient – you get it- scary woman doing taxes person. I even warn my hubby when I pass him in his comfy chair on the way to the kitchen…”I hate taxes!”
I have always been blessed with the abundance (though not always by the fifteenth) to pay what was needed when the deadlines show up for instant attention. So why all the stress, the tax madness, the crazies that settled around me and my ‘being’ between mid-March and today, the 15th of April, a lost friend’s birthday usually celebrated with a note and a smile, a joke about never forgetting the date and all the little things that pass between long distance friends.
What is different this year? Am I? I sat with that question on the evening of Palm Sunday remembering the flowers my sister and I used to weave into crowns and the white gloves, always the white gloves. A journey began that day on the other side of the world, that would change the world. Miracles would happen and lives would be lost and found.
Is it loss and the finding and the grief and the living that is driving all these questions this week?
I did a wonderful automatic writing session with Tryna Gower yesterday and was shocked at the words that rolled off the end of the pen across smooth blank pages. What showed up in the tears was a “fear” I have not given conscious thought to, deeply or at least not consciously.
It was a new experience, looking ahead from a very different point of view. Leaning into the unknown of tomorrow with guilt? What? Where did that one come from?
You see, I have been ignoring me. Yep, I write a good story, but I am not one to practice what I preach on a regular basis. That lack of focus, discipline, and responsible action has snuck into my bones, my belly, clutched a hold on my heart and scrambles my thinking.
I have been passing by the signs that flash “what about you?” And not that selfish sign that it is all about me but the underlying health of me.
Covid kept us all from going to the doctors for our regular checkups and check-ins. Here in California, still under the banner of a “state of emergency”, warning commercials keep reminding us to be safe and keep our distance and get the shots and and and and … you get the picture.
It is a great excuse to not see the dentist, ignore that annual checkup, cancel appointments made last year or the year before or should be scheduled now or last year.
Guilt has grown in the belly of this writer and yesterday a fearsome reminder flew off the end of my pen as I was reminded of the eventual outcome of not caring, not caring for, or caring about me. You got it – ______ and taxes, the only guarantees in life, right.
Even the word doesn’t want me to spell it out here today on this ‘Tax Day’, this day of owing or if lucky, receiving back what has been saved up for you just in case you might owe more.
That is what I am feeling like today. That I have been saving up because there is more I owe and I don’t think I have enough yet. I owe myself a trip to the doctors I have been ignoring but I don’t what to hear what they have to say, I know what needs working on.
I owe myself some compassion, but I am the one who made the choices that put me where I am. I owe myself forgiveness, but I feel better served under the covers in my pile of comfy pillows where guilt is padded and softened against its constant reminder that I am not where I want to be, doing what I want to be doing or getting done what needs to be done. Sound familiar?
That dark cloud of heavy, almost paralyzing energy that has a clinical name and number now, in all its forms, has taken up residence in my head and has been playing havoc with my world.
What I have come to realize in the writing of it all, is that this numbered, named dis-ease is something that even today, as it is recognized as ‘not your fault’ still carries the voice of my mother telling me ‘I just have to pull myself up by my bootstraps and take care of things.
What I have come to know this week is that I can’t reach the bootstraps and that the answers and solutions I have always been told are all inside of me, need some help to get out of me and set me free.
So, this week, I will write the check, write to you all, make those calls and set up those appointments and release the fear around whatever the outcomes are as there is always a way through this. This week I will ask for help (not an easy thing for a master co-dependent to do) and I will follow through with wherever that leads me.
My sincere apologies for the depth of this week, for the rawness of it all. I wanted these little weekly tidbits to be joyous inspiration for you all, to brighten your weekends and set you off on optimistic weeks of growing yourselves into your best selves.
Today, I have to heed my own advice and put me first. I hope my story will serve to remind you that we have great days, good ones and then there are those that try to drag us back into the bucket with all the other crabs. When that happens, ask for help.
Here’s to speedy appointments, great test outcomes and no more procrastination. Here’s to living, not waiting for life to happen and here’s to the growing light, to the resurrection of our light, each and every one of us as we grow into the divine essence of who we are, who we are becoming and who we will BE
In loving appreciation, always, of you in my circle and for allowing me a place to share the real and the raw, the fun and the joy. May you all find your hearts path and set sight on the journey ahead.
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“Click here to get my Free Gift Living An Intentional Life”
Vicki Dobbs is a bold and adventurous warrior walking a path of heart to manifest spirituality in everyday lives. She opens existential gateways for individuals to face their challenges and embrace these tests as the great teachers that they are.
Her goal is to see everyone walk in beauty and balance every day of their lives empowered by the voice of their own authentic truth.
Through Wisdom Evolution and Sacred Wisdom Workshops, Vicki creates opportunities for others to make deep personal changes through experiential classes, ceremony, sacred art and story. She endeavors to inspire others to create their lives intentionally. Vicki is an Inspirator of everyday awareness, an Instigator of spontaneous stories and a Connoisseur of Creativity. Gratitude and grace sprinkled with humility and humor are the medicine she brings to the world.
As an Elder, Teacher and Entrepreneur, Spiritual Coach, Ordained Minister and Crafter of Sacred Art and Tools, Vicki perceives life’s journey as an ever-upward spiraling ascension of the human spirit leading her to wisdom, wholeness and authenticity.
Her experience includes being trained in the Harner Method of Shamanic Counseling and the Pachakuti Mesa Tradition of Cross Cultural Shamanism. She is a Graduate Teacher and Mentor with the Lynn Andrews Center For Sacred Arts and Training and has been the Administrator and Writers Guide for Writing Spirit, the School.
Vicki is also an Artist of the Spirit Certified Spiritual and Energetic Life Coach, a Graduate Mentor in the AoS program and a founding member of HeatherAsh Amara’s Warrior Goddess Leadership Team and Facilitator of the Warrior Heart Practice.
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