Taken at the Necropolis in Havana, Cuba March 29, 2006.

For almost two years now – a period marked by my fiancee starting a new job in Los Angeles – I have moved between varying states of resistance and acceptance regarding a number of things in my life.  This has been a cycle that is not without its challenges, but I am proud of the fact that over time, I have moved in a positive trajectory.  With each sequential episode of resistance the feelings aren’t quite as intense and I move through them more quickly, and I emerge standing a little bit taller and walking a little bit lighter due to less anxiety, fewer expectations and more compassion.  I still sometimes hit a snag and am rather ungracefully yanked backwards, as if a scarf I was wearing got stuck on a tree branch, but sometimes it takes a violent jolt to get my full attention where it needs to be.  Most times my attention falls on the same blossoming flower bursting open in the tree, so lovely and fragrant I can’t believe I let it slip out of my periphery – acceptance.

Acceptance.  Acceptance.  Acceptance.

Of circumstances.  Of people.  Of myself, abundance and failure.  Of my own choices and my own mistakes.  Of help from my friends.  Of all my anger, joy and sorrow.  Of the general state of things.  And on and on and on.

I pride myself on having created a circle of friends that I consider to be profoundly wise, unfailingly honest and wonderfully funny.  I spoke to one of these women today, who spent much of her morning listening to my ranting about all of my woes (real and imagined).  She listened intently as she always does, opened a wide, safe circle to hold my frustrations, and re-aligned the trajectory of my focus back where it belonged – on acceptance.  Not on resignation, stocism or passivity, but on wild, exuberant, passionate acceptance.

She gave me a wonderful metaphor – that of a cabinet.  There are all kinds of cabinets – antique white medicine cabinets with rusty spots and warped mirrors, crisp glass kitchen cabinets in newly renovated homes, colorful square cabinets with red and blue doors in kindergarten classrooms.  I envision my own as something that looks like a simple old box with a lovely little lock, key hanging on the side from a tattered pink silk ribbon.  There are other cabinets around me – the cabinets of my friends, my partner and other members of my family – and they are each unique in their architecture and contents.  Where the metaphor comes in is in recognizing and accepting the contents of all these different cabinets.  I may wish someone was able to be there for me in a certain way, communicate with me in a certain way or provide something specific for me, but perhaps that person’s cabinet just doesn’t contain what I want it to contain.  Once I am conscious of this, the rest is up to me – I can stay in a place of frustration over not getting what I want, or I can accept that for whatever reason, this person doesn’t have what I want in his or her cabinet.  Going further, I also have the choice of whether or not to celebrate and be thankful for the fact that this person is giving me all that he or she does have to offer in his or her cabinet.

In one quick instant, my role as a victim is over and suddenly I am in a very powerful place – a place of awareness, of honesty and of acceptance.  Taking things personally suddenly becomes completely unnecessary and any feelings of maltreatment melt away like ice cubes in a glass filled with freshly brewed tea.  Suddenly, it is all up to me, and I am free to walk away from any possible battles and other situations that will ultimately only result in me banging my head against the wall.  Acceptance does not have to mean compromising my ideals or integrity or becoming a martyr, it is about seeing things for what they really are and then making rational choices about whether or not I want to be involved in a certain situation, relationship, or dynamic.  I can choose not to participate, but if I am able to make that choice from a place of acceptance, then that choice becomes much, much easier and I am able to walk away with a clear conscious and no guilt.  Or if the choice is to continue to participate, I can do so without the burden of wishing for things to be different or having expectations that can never be met.  Instead I can enter into a relationship, situation, discussion or environment with a much greater awareness of what is and isn’t possible.

There are obviously moments in our lives when we must fight for change and refuse to accept what is.  But in our closest relationships and the inner workings of our day to day personal lives, I believe genuine change – if needed – can only begin from a space of acceptance.  When I walk, talk, interact, ponder and observe with acceptance in my heart, everything around me is so much clearer and sparkling, and I am in my own power.  In acceptance I find my greatest power, because in acceptance I find truth.  And the truth, I have found, is what I must have if I am to be unquestionably free.

"Rationality is the recognition of the fact that nothing can alter the truth and nothing can take precedence over that act of perceiving it."  -Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged