We had our meeting the other day with the accountant for 2008 taxes. I was thinking on the trip there what a couples counseling / psych job this guy must have. My partner and I were already sparring that morning heading out. I started to ball myself and cinch in to protect myself from the utter disappointment of looking at my total years salary and confronting the amount of money I would owe and not have.
The meeting went amazingly well. Our accountant worked his magic – speaking about himself, surname only, in the third person and referring to Uncle Sam often – “Moles says you pay this but Uncle Sam says you pay this and then whadya do?” He figured out low payments for both of us and we left pleased.
I received a session the other day. My money issues came up again. Issues is not even the right choice of wording. It’s a wire corset that I wear, entwined on me, shackled into this belief system that so entangles I can’t see my way out of the braces. There were no resolutions in my session. I was frustrated. I am crawling. I was saying unkind things. I was letting go of ideas and principles. I don’t respect rich people. I think people who save money are afraid of death. I am not good at hanging onto money. I live close to the cloth. I don’t consume a lot but I also can’t have a lot of money around. Paradoxes, unconnected thoughts. Fragments. Spew. A bile of ideas on money and my worth, as an earner was comin from me. I couldn’t make sense of it and I can make sense of everything. I have serious complexities about wealth and worth and consuming. Did I become a non-consumer b.c. my family consumes food and drink and things so well? Am I a non-consumer simply b.c. I am afraid of my lack of self-control about food and drink and things? Do I want to keep up with the Joneses? Do I envy? Am I afraid of the clamor I have for nice things? I like a full pantry. A heavy meal makes a hearty home.
At integration, I sat up from my forward fold. I sobbed. I had a glimpse, an image of my partner and I standing in our healthy, happy home. He standing tall as provider; me standing beside him as equal provider. I cried b.c. I almost believe this. I believe it in session with deep breaths and peace around me. I believe we both bring so much to a mutual love. I wanted to appreciate him for his monetary providing and hard work. I wanted to appreciate me for the love and cleanliness and comfort I gather to our home. In that moment, I could forget my strife of low-earner, career derailed misfit of emotional strife.