Tax Time: a reflection

I am in the process of getting my ducks in a row to hand over to my tax guy. (note: I love this man. If you need a referral to an excellent tax guy here in Portland, I know one who is worth every penny. Plus, he is nice.)
Last year, my little tiny business did some really cool things. She logged well over 1000 paid office visits. She took breaks to go on vacation. She doubled her patient load. She doubled (and more) her overhead. She grew into two locations. She decreased her debt! For my part, I showed up, kept records which were faithfully updated weekly, and paid the bills. I look at numbers every week when I do this, but I don't sit down and compare anything but once a year. The way I have my practice configured right now, it is about 80% full. I want to eventually sell my Portland practice and switch everything to the Mountain.
I have been dedicated to this venture since September of 2003. Much longer, actually, if you consider the schooling involved, but I think that the school part is far and away from the practicing of the thing--clinical realities and theoretical notions aside. Building this business has been a struggle and a joy. It has been, especially in the first two years, disheartening and frustrating and terrifying, but I am so glad I didn't quit.
There were times I wanted to, but my skillset isn't exactly marketable, so there was that.
I am finally making the kind of money that I would call a "living wage". I have made it a priority to give myself health insurance, a savings plan, and time off to play. I am taking good care of my well being. I have created a good work-life balance which allows me to live well outside of work. I no longer worry inordinately about the state of my business. I have attracted the sort of patients to my practice that I want to work with. I can pay my bills. I can buy shoes sometimes, and groceries, without that sick feeling. Things feel abundant and sound and balanced.
There are some things I have learned along the way about all this: tenacity is key. The profession does not owe me a living. I am not entitled to any success. I think I thought that because I put in my time and took on a huge amount of debt in the process that there would be a certain guarantee of work. This is just not true. There is much more investment involved than I imagined--and all kinds of it. I learned to curtail my excitement and not share my ideas with people so easily, because they might use them to hurt me later. I have alot to say about acupuncture and the sort of medicine I practice, but mostly I keep it to myself anymore, with the exception of my business partners, because it is decidedly dangerous to do otherwise. I used to be willing to share everything I had with anyone else who was also trying to get somewhere in this business, but now I understand why people generally don't. It isn't because of competition.
Being self employed is frightening.
It is also awesome! Because you can just say fuck it and not look busy at work if you are not busy. Clearly I am still not recovered from my lengthy tenure as a service worker.
Last year was good to my business and my business was good to me. I got balance, confidence, and a certain security out of it, the kind of security that only comes from being committed and responsible to the thing that buys my way in this world.