A Question Of Acceptance

I’ve never much liked the word “acceptance” – not the general umbrella of evaluating others’ philosophies of course – but rather in terms of daily life choices. It always conjured-up feelings of compromise or resignation or defeat.

“The runner accepted that he couldn’t go any further in the race…. the dancer accepted that she’d never become a prima ballerina…. the patient accepted the finality of the doctor’s diagnosis”.

Why shouldn’t a sprinter resolve to get up earlier, exercise more and train harder so that next time maybe he will win that 10K?

If she really wants it badly enough, why shouldn’t a dancer devote years at the barre and fight for a role in “Swan Lake”?

And isn’t it good common sense to get a second and a third opinion in light of a serious diagnosis? We’re constantly reminded that, despite their years of training, doctors aren’t gods. How many times do we hear stories of patients overcoming the odds and living for decades beyond their physician’s estimations?

Who doesn’t like a story of courage and determination?  At last count, that video of a dowdy-yet-destined-for-success Susan Boyle singing “I Dreamed A Dream” has logged over ninety-five million views.  And along with ten megapixel pictures of our friends’ latest sushi plates and trips to Aruba, aren’t our Facebook pages and emails also peppered with daily recitations of inspiration and encouragement to buck the odds?

But lately I’ve become aware of another concept of acceptance.

A book to which many of my friends subscribe suggests that, in an alternate form of thinking, acceptance may be a good thing. It goes so far as to say that it actually may be an answer to a lot of my problems.

It suggests that whenever I’m agitated, it’s probably because I find some person, place, thing or situation – some fact of life – to be unacceptable. Furthermore, it says that I’ll probably find little peace in my heart and mind until I accept them as being exactly the way they’re supposed to be at the moment. It further suggests that nothing happens by mistake in God’s world, and that the very key to my happiness may lie in accepting life on life’s terms – concentrating not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and my attitudes.

At first glance, it’s confusing, but the last part helps make it clear. Acceptance doesn’t necessarily mean I have to be defeated. It doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t work for my dreams and goals or have courage in my convictions. But it does mean that I don’t serve myself well when I spend my time worrying about, obsessing over and resenting other people’s lives.

A runner who obsesses over the other guy who’s faster, rather than working on improving his own skills, risks defeating only himself.  A dancer who drowns in envy at the success of another performer, rather than working to be the best she can be on her own, lessens her chances to fulfill her dreams. A patient with a difficult diagnosis who succumbs to self-pity and resentment risks blinding himself to the everyday miracles which make each moment of all of our lives so precious.

I recently read that a basic tenet of living a good life is continually seeking a balance of our priorities. It seems clear that another key to living my best life may also include finding a balance of acceptance.

 

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