So last year I amended my taxes because I didn't want the fight. The ex is in a constant state of threats. I had (rightfully) claimed the boys and he flipped. Without going into too much detail - remember it IS in my best interest that he remains fiscally healthy - I 'gave' him the deduction for two years at an overall cost of 6k to me. But something strange happened last year when I did that, when I just leaned into it...
Picture this I'm sitting in the accountant's office; overworked, overtired, overdone. I had the thousand mile stare of one who had become numb to combat, a warrior who knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I would have won that battle, but a I was a little girl with a red haired pony tail that just desperately needed a hot bath and a nap that lasted a week. Fight? I just didn't want it. It didn't matter that I was right. It didn't matter that I could take it to the mat. It just didn't matter. So I give him the 2 years, not for him, For me.
I wanted peace. I wanted a clean sheet of paper. So I amended the taxes and left that office smiling - because in that instance the pen was indeed mightier than the sword, mightier than the court room, mightier than the judges gavel slap. I smiled the whole way home. I cringed a bit every month for the past year when I made the monthly payment, knowing it wouldn't be paid off in that year, it would only be dented. My friends called me crazy, my accountant shook her head but understood. And a year when by...
Today I did my taxes and (rightfully) claimed the boys. He knew I would. He knew I had to. He knew there was only so far that I could be pushed until I had enough rest and adjusted the shield for battle. There was $ coming back for this single mom and I told the accountant to square me up with the IRS and whatever was left over, I'd take the boys to dinner. I'm squared up, and once again I left the accountants smiling. I felt like a grownup which rarely happens. I mean, let's face it, I run this entire beautiful shit show - but sometimes it feels like I'm just wingin it. And as I open up and talk to everyone else, well, so are they.
We all have to adhere to the code that is correct for us. What good is the fight when my precious life energy is needed in so many other ways? What good is it to win when it parts you with endless photons of energy that scatter like snow when a car flies by? I need to be ok with me - and if that goes against the norm, or what people think I should do - so be it. I'm done asking for permission to live my life. I'm finished adhering to some mysterious set of terms in regards to what we 'should' do, or what they 'would' do. No one knows that crap for sure unless they've spent the entire amount of time I've been on this earth in my shoes. I do what I do based on how the ship is balanced at the time - whether I sit in a typhoon or calm waters. It's my shit show and it's beautiful because its mine.
I'm neither too old or too young, too smart or too dumb, I can be rich and broke at the same time - depending on what we are discussing, but I'll tell you what I always am; equipped, provided for, filled with faith, love and wonder and above all hope. Here's to a poker game that never ends, dice that always roll, a sun that always rises, and a moon that shares my tears and fears with no one. This is my life and I'm on it like a bonnet.
When my accountant told me today that my return equaled almost to the penny TO THE PENNY what I owed, I shook my head and asked "How is that even possible?"
She put her pen up over her head and said "My dear, someone is obviously looking out for you!"
I think she's correct. I know she is.
Follow your compass and things fall right as rain.
Happy Returns
Namaste
