ProtuberantSomehow, somewhere, someway, I have felt that Creator has forgotten about me. While I know (in the truest part of me) this is not possible, I have still fallen prey to this mindset on more than one occasion this past month. The culmination of an ant infestation, an unnerving IRS audit, and my daughter’s change of schools has me at the cliff of lucid truth:

I am not in charge of it all.

I command only my action and my response, nothing more, but certainly nothing less.

What triggered this helix was the audit. The discomfort of having your “accounting” finely examined by an Internal Revenue Service auditor has been nothing short of horrible. The time invested in collecting, organizing, recalculating, rechecking, and re-organizing is atrocious.

The extra hours of preparation was one aspect of the project. The unexpected piece was the emotional uprising. Preparing for the audit seemed to awaken all the places I had made mistakes or cut corners. It cracked open an inventory that I thought was healed—or at least more healed.

In my case, the auditor had questions about my book and my book expenses. How humbling to tell this woman that I am sober now, that I am honest now, that I no longer take self-seeking action at every turn. Trust me, my expenses are honest, but I used to be a drunk. Deep inside my head tells me I am a liar, a thief, and a cheater.  That I would do it until I got caught. I would do it even after I got caught. The ugliness of it all. The ugliness of how I behaved.

Back to the auditor: She wants to know why so many expenses for the book. The numbers don’t support the government stats.

The government sees my occupation, my book, my blog as a hobby. The government doesn’t want to pay for my hobby. I am floored. Maybe even beyond floored. I have devoted the last six years to addicts in recovery.  Recovery isn’t a hobby and it’s certainly not my hobby. It’s a lifelong practice of going within so I can go without alcohol. Yes, I have cheated and lied, but I don’t anymore, my recovery depends upon it.

If I choose sober, I choose living in alignment with principles. It is the only way I know how to stay sober. Define my principles and live within them. Done.

But that old programming kept rearing its ugly face. In the silence I got to a point where I wasn’t even sure I believed my own words. I began to question whether or not I was any different. Maybe I am the same girl? Maybe I’ve got everyone fooled? Maybe I’ve got me fooled?

What a head trip I’ve put myself through these past weeks. I’ve had to force myself back to center. I’ve had to force myself to sit quiet with Creator and hear the truth. I’ve had to recommit myself to the new and improved version of me that I have become. There can be no waxing or waning.

That was who I was. This is who I have become. I choose to forgive and move forward. I do not need to stay stuck in the past.

Suffice to say, it has been shattered sleep and kaleidoscope dreams. I can only hope that I am breaking through some new barrier in my belief about myself, my world.

Life on life’s terms … I always manage to get through it—sober and sane. No doubt this will not disappoint.

As for Creator, I know He is here and that in some strange way I have welcomed this forth, lest it wouldn’t be here. (But it still sucks to go through it.)

For today I am sober and strong. A gift many of us would gladly welcome even with the IRS in tow.

Whatever you are facing today. Face it without altering your mind. It might hurt more today, but it will hurt a lot less tomorrow.