Several nights ago, I burned old tax records and other papers from the 1980's and 1990's.
The really satisfying part had come earlier in the afternoon, when I rolled each individual sheet of paper into a ball to make for better "kindling." It was fun at first, almost like making snowballs! Yet the process forced me literally to bring into the light (if only momentarily) parts of my life that have been piled up in the dark. After having determined the age of the material and the fact that this process was long overdue, I didn't want to linger over it. However, balling up each sheet, and seeing, if only for a second, the dates, numbers and addresses on them, forced me to revisit old jobs, homes, decisions and activities that in most cases I hadn't thought about in years. There were receipts from the college loans I finally paid off (with great joy!) in 1989. There was quite a bit of carbon paper, something I haven't seen in years. There, in black and white, was evidence of the years of ever-increasing income when I worked in the corporate sector, followed by the precipitous decline the second I left it. Big life decisions and small, all neatly summed up by a yearly number or address.
Of course, the big question is why, through many moves and changes and downsizings, I had kept a brown cardboard box labeled "Taxes" intact in the first place! I think the short answer is, because every time I saw it or moved it, I said, "Oh, that's important!" and waved it through without opening it.
But the longer answer may be, so that I could avoid the waves of second-guessing and shame that inevitably surfaced. What if I had stayed at my corporate job? What if I now had hundreds of thousands of dollars in retirement accounts? Why wasn't I more successful later on as a freelance artist? What if I had stayed in that city? Would I have married or had children? What if, what if, what if...
When you go through old photographs, at least you see the human face of your decisions. "Of course," you say, "when I lived here, I had such great friends! A great view from my apartment! I loved my travels in my little red car, or moving to more beautiful rural areas, or entertaining!" Tax and bank statements strip away the color and are starkly honest. In such-and-such year, you did great! In such-and-such year, you may have done great things, but heck, girl, could you have made less money? What is wrong with you? Perhaps other people can scan these materials dispassionately, but they bring out my harsh inner judge and critic. So, of course it was far preferable to leave that cardboard box untouched through the years.
Now, having finally blessed, balled up, and set fire to these papers in a wood stove and seen them reduced to ashes, I feel so much lighter. I certainly won't go so far as to say that carrying this box around caused my subsequent inability to thrive, financially. That came from a perfect storm of beliefs which I am sure I will touch upon in future posts, as I move into new ways of thinking.
Yet do not underestimate the power of the box (or closet or basement or attic) that is taped shut. We all have them. It may be deep down in our soul, or cluttering our outer spaces. If you listen hard enough, you can probably hear it saying, "please, open me up and deal with me!" Or your response, "I just don't want to go there." But there is liberation in finally opening up the box and dealing with it. Let the hard feelings or questions surface, and forgive yourself, bless everything you or anyone else did -- then take a deep breath, ask for guidance (from the Divine, friends, family, or experts) and do whatever is appropriate for each individual item; burn, shred, recycle, take to a thrift store, or -- if necessary -- simply throw it out. It is empowering. It brings you back into the present. It frees you up to move forward.
