“…the best thing one can do when it is raining, is to let it rain.”– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Tales of a Wayside Inn
For the longest time, I thought accepting something meant I had to like it.
Somewhere along the way, however, I realized that true acceptance of any thing has nothing to do with liking or disliking it. If you’re looking at the thing through that filter you’ve already got the wrong perception.
Acceptance merely means acknowledging what is – that’s it.
Ironically, that can be a hard idea to accept.
I can accept there will be traffic without liking it. Although I actually don’t mind traffic, especially if I have an audiobook or good tunes. Solo traffic dance parties anyone?
I can accept that, living in Pittsburgh, there will be more overcast days than sunny ones, but those cloudy days are perfect for reading and sipping a cuppa.
Five Minutes in the Morning also points out that acceptance isn’t about passivity or opting out. It’s about recognizing what is under our control and what is out of our control.
Sometimes, all you need is a change of perception to allow acceptance.
Today, think about a situation you’re having trouble accepting. Set a timer for five minutes and write about all the things you’ve done since then that would have been impossible otherwise.
Here’s what I wrote:
I’m finding it hard to accept the limitations of language.
This is a fairly recent (~3 weeks) revelation & as someone who writes this is kind of a blow. It must be like how the little pig felt when the big bad wolf blew down his house of sticks.
Words have always been my refuge, but knowing their limitations – & knowing that I struggle to convey thoughts in speech – makes me feel less than.
I was on the verge of tears last night because I wasn’t able to write, & even now rethinking about it my jaw tightens & I find it hard to breathe.
Being someone who writes – a writer – is just an identity, an egoic perception. I’m not a writer, it’s just something I do. I suppose I knew this in my head, but I’m starting to learn it in my heart. It honestly feels like watching a friend die, to know that this is just an egoic perception that keeps me from being my Highest expression.
But how can that be when I feel most alive when writing? Maybe it’s confusion I need to accept. That feels hard to breathe over, too. I know I’ll figure it out.
I think there’s an element that wants me to keep my identity tied to that – to my ability to create – instead of surrendering to God, the Universe, Whatever Is. But I am blessed as a child of the Universe. I am sustained by the love of the Universe.
May I accept my innocence.
So I didn’t really do this prompt properly, and this was something I worked on a lot last week (and continue to work on). I know it’s the start to a change, though.
Accepting what is imbues it with the power to change.
What are you working on accepting? Feel free to share in the comments in below!