The Unexpected Peace Of Acceptance

The Unexpected Peace Of Acceptance

Who knew such lessons could be contained in an eight foot section of rope?

A few years back I was humbled by a jump rope. One of the exercises in this particular fitness class I had signed up for involved jumping rope, something I’d not done in decades. But, how hard could it be? After all, it’s jumping rope, like riding a bicycle. You just pick up where you left off, right?

As I awkwardly spun the rope over my head, for the life of me I just couldn’t time my jumps correctly as the rope swung towards my feet. No grace. No elegance. No coordination. Recognizing my growing frustration, I kept trying and eventually I got into a bit of a rhythm until I hit the wall aerobically, surprisingly quickly fatigued by the cumulative challenge of jumping rope.

Maybe I wasn’t in as good of shape as I thought I was. I’d been consistently active at the gym, running consistently three times a week, yet a simple jump rope showed me I really wasn’t where I thought I was fitness wise.

Most of my significant moments of growth have grown out of moments when life humbled me. Some of those moments were unwelcome but showed up anyway. In other moments I voluntarily engaged with the realization and acceptance of certain situations, people, and circumstances and was willing to meet them where they were. 

Including the jump rope.

Including myself.

Fighting with my perceptions of reality can often feel justified, even cathartic. And while the fighting might feel good, the fighting keeps you stuck and distracts you from taking the next steps in response to embracing the truth about those certain situations, people, and circumstances which, like that jump rope, can show you exactly where you are in relation to them.

If you’re open and willing to do so.

The jump rope showed me something I didn’t see in me. I could have discredited or denied the uncomfortable findings, or I could have accepted what was and decided to growth through it instead. Which is what I chose to do. I’ve gotten much better at casting aside my ego and habitual blame and allowing myself to be humbled by the truths in front of me. Knowing and accepting What Is provides the perfect foundation to build What Could Be if building a different experience is what you want to create for you. And in some areas of my life that’s exactly what I am intentionally doing.

Acceptance isn’t surrender. Acceptance isn’t passive. Acceptance isn’t even being OK with how portions of life actually are. It’s about allowing life to be exactly as it is right now and moving forward – or not – from a position of understanding where you are right now. 

There is an unexpected peace and freedom which comes from accepting life as it is, without judging, without resisting, without wishing it was any different even if you’re tempted to wish that it was. For me that has been a long, non-linear, painful process.

But I’m getting better at it.

Just like jumping rope.

Photo by Ashley Inguanta on Unsplash

The Joy Of Self-Inflicted Discomfort

The Joy Of Self-Inflicted Discomfort

I’d forgotten about the video.

I’m not sure if she was aware of the Ice Bucket Challenge back in the summer of 2014, but there she was with a purple plastic bucket of cold water in her hands and on the count of three she dumped it over her head. 

“How did it feel?” asked her amused Dad.

“Good!” she excitedly replied as she ran off to go play with her friends.

Six year olds live life on a different level, don’t they? A precious age when we’re open to possibility and wonder and not yet worried about how we look while doing so.

Making ourselves intentionally uncomfortable goes against the grain of what we tend to strive for in life. So much of the lives we work to create is geared towards make life more convenient, more comfortable. 

Sometimes life throws a bucket of cold water on the life we are building, the unexpected frigidity upending the comfort we have long sought and worked for. 

But how often are we willing to intentionally throw a bucket of cold water on the parts of our lives Continue reading “The Joy Of Self-Inflicted Discomfort”

When You Know Where You’re Going It’s A Lot Easier To Get There

When You Know Where You’re Going It’s A Lot Easier To Get There

If only the Universe was always this clear.

The long meandering road by the beach ends with a stop sign. The intersection presents only two options. A left turn or a right one. Glancing up at the sign, I see that the names of the roads converging at this point are unusually descriptive. The road to the left is Purgatory Road. The road to the right is Paradise Avenue.

Purgatory or Paradise.

Which would you choose?

At first I found the sign a bit humorous, but on the drive home I started thing about some of the intersections I’ve come to in my own life. The choices I’ve had to make were not as clearly marked, there was never a sign to tell me where my choices would lead me. 

With no real signs to guide me, at times I’d simply remain at the stop signs for as long as I could. When unsure of which decision to make, sometimes making no decision was the comfortable decision. And if I had to make a decision, the safe one was usually the familiar one, even if I knew such a decision wasn’t in my best interest. My greatest moments of growth have been when I Continue reading “When You Know Where You’re Going It’s A Lot Easier To Get There”

You Don’t Owe Yourself An Apology For Being You

You Don’t Owe Yourself An Apology For Being You

Sometimes he shows up unexpectedly. Usually in the form of an unwelcome reference in an unwelcome conversation.

I had to live with him for years. He clung to me always, virtually inseparable. It wasn’t a particularly good relationship, either. Contentious, at times even emotionally abusive. I often didn’t live up to his expectations and I’d be relentlessly reminded each time I failed to do so.

But now he’s dead.

And I don’t miss him.

They never published an obituary in the newspaper for the person I used to be. The tormentor, the self-abuser, the one who did all he could to keep me exactly where I didn’t want to be. 

It was a long, often painful passing, a slow transition from one life of familiar limitation and lack Continue reading “You Don’t Owe Yourself An Apology For Being You”

Your Self Hatred Would Like To Have A Word With You

Your Self Hatred Would Like To Have A Word With You

It’s the one relative we all hate.

The one who always shows up during life’s more challenging moments. The one who is always there to remind you of all the things you don’t like about yourself. The one who will remind you that it didn’t work out because it’s never supposed to work out for you.

We never actually see this relative. But we know the far too familiar voice living rent free in our heads.

The Inner Critic.

I’d have to say of the vast majority of those closest to me, none are as consistently there for me like my Inner Critic. In my moments of doubt and uncertainty, the Inner Critic is always right there to flawlessly reinforce any of the negativity I may be experiencing. It’s a loyalty unlike any other.

For years I’d work to minimize my Inner Critic, angrily trying to suppress that relentless voice. The Inner Critic was unfazed by my hostility. It had a job to do and it was going to get that job done regardless of the feeling I had towards it.

It always owned me. Until one day I asked “why?”.

After a particularly brutal assault, I engaged in an unexpected conversation with the me which continued to work against me. Frustrated, I asked for some answers. Why was I being so hard Continue reading “Your Self Hatred Would Like To Have A Word With You”

Are You Waiting To Be Chosen?

Are You Waiting To Be Chosen?

“If you’re surrendering your uniqueness for acceptance, you are only existing and not living.”  – Erwin McManus

It’s a scorching hot day in Ocho Rios, Jamaica. July, 1990. The two captains were evaluating their options as they picked their teams for an impromptu game of beach volleyball. Each made their picks, and with the very last pick I was all one of the captains had left to choose from.

At my height I was quite surprised that neither captain saw the value I could bring to their team. I mean, height and volleyball usually work quite well together. I expected to be selected much sooner in the process, and with each pick that was made that wasn’t me the more annoyed and aggravated I became.

Unmet expectations often do that, don’t they? I mean, hell, I knew what I could bring to either team and when others didn’t have the same expectations for me I had for myself it really started to infuriate me. It was just a random beach volleyball game in the Caribbean, a perfect time to just chill and have some fun, yet instead of being happy I became anything but.

Nobody wants to be picked last. We all want to be chosen, to be seen and heard and appreciated, not to feel like someone’s only option. Being chosen brings with it a level of Continue reading “Are You Waiting To Be Chosen?”

The Desirable Discomfort

The Desirable Discomfort

“Sometimes the only way out is through.”

Recently I reconnected with an old friend. My trail bike. I’d often glance at it hanging on a hook from a rafter in my shed, promising myself that one of these days I’m going to take it out for a ride.

Today was the day.

Not too far from home is a large state forest with miles of trails and unpaved fire access roads, a natural habitat for trail bikes to explore and wander. It had been years since my last ride here but it felt like I hadn’t missed a beat as I headed off on my adventure.

Heavy rains over the past few days made the dirt roads a bit muddy in places, but mud always makes trail bike riding more exciting, more primal. Getting filthy is part of the process and before too long mud was pretty much everywhere. I guess the kid in me has never outgrown his fascination with mud.

As I got deeper into the woods the uneven nature of the roads were partially flooded from the rains. As much as I enjoy mud, I would navigate my bike around the edges of these deep puddles adding a bit more intensity to the ride. But at one point, the road was completely flooded from side to side. Impassable.

Unless I wanted to get very wet.

With trees bordering both sides of the flooded road, I stopped and assessed my options. The “puddle” was a good 30 feet long, I had no idea how deep it was, and there was no dry alternative to get around what was in front of me.

“Sometimes the only way out is through.”

Sitting on my bike contemplating the words of Robert Frost, I knew that to get beyond what was in front of me I would need to go through what was in front of me. There really wasn’t any other Continue reading “The Desirable Discomfort”

The Freedom Of Possibility

The Freedom Of Possibility

It was one of the stupidest decisions I’ve ever made.

Driving home from a late night out in the big city with a few friends. In front of me was a wide open stretch of highway which for some unknown reason inspired me to wonder just how fast my car could actually go. Fueled by a potentially lethal combination of teenage invincibility and alcohol, I pressed the pedal as hard as I could just to see exactly how fast my ’73 Toyota could go.

My experiment was cut short by a rather unsettling noise coming from the rear tires. Apparently the high rate of speed I was traveling at created a great deal of heat causing the retreads on my tires to separate from the tires, which I discovered after stopping to see if I could find where the noise was coming from. I had no idea that was even possible until I held a piece of a tire in my hand. After that experience, I had no intention of ever finding out exactly how fast that car could go.

Things certainly could have easily turned out much differently.

This far more mature and long-sober version of me often ponders a different sort of experiment. What would the outcome be if I pushed myself to my limits. Like, if I gave life all I had to give, Continue reading “The Freedom Of Possibility”

Maybe The Broken Aren’t Actually Broken?

Maybe The Broken Aren’t Actually Broken?

Sometimes the heaviest things we carry are the judgments we make about ourselves. The belief system about who we tell ourselves we really are. The belief system which influences our expectations and shape our experiences, reinforcing the belief system as a result.

If you take notice, life has proven to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. We do tend to experience what we expect to experience, even if at times we don’t really want to experience it. If paradise was within our reach, our arms would never be fully extended to reach for it if on some level we don’t believe we are supposed to experience it. The weight of our self-judgment will keep us where we’ve convinced ourselves we’re supposed to be. Wanting. Wishing. But never moving beyond where we’ve accepted we are supposed to be.

Life at times can certainly leave us to believe we are broken. Flawed. Defective. Not worthy. Too Continue reading “Maybe The Broken Aren’t Actually Broken?”

When All Of Me Matters

When All Of Me Matters

I’ve never had a spa day, but according to Cleo spa days are a vitally important part of her self care regimen. 

I don’t know who Cleo is. She was one of several people sharing their thoughts on a podcast talking about how they like to show themselves a little love and attention. We all deserve a little pampering now and again, don’t we?

I’ve never been much into pampering. My way of showing myself a little love was showing myself a little tough love, of me reminding me why I didn’t deserve any pampering. It was a narrative I learned in my youth and continued to perpetuate as an adult. 

I got quite good at it as an adult.

It was one particularly brutal tough love “self care” session, though, which profoundly changed how I would care for myself going forward. Surprisingly, I asked myself why I was being so cruel to myself. Why was I so relentless in beating myself down for failing to live up to the unrealistic Continue reading “When All Of Me Matters”