I am tired. The seemingly endless task of applying for disability, keeping the shelves stocked with food, the bills paid and my spirits high can be exhausting. Let me rephrase that. Not can be exhausting – is exhausting.

I am not at all unique in this experience. Some have rushed to my support in ways that both humble and dazzle me. Others offer lip service (see earlier post), and still others don’t lift a finger. And so it goes, as the remarkable journalist Linda Ellerbee would say at the end of her show, Weekend. A great show that aired for an all-too-brief period of time in the mid 1980s.

It seems clear to me that the key to any successful life management is acceptance. Life is what it is and we are each faced with the task of accepting the reality we are in. This brings me to the theme of this essay: acceptance. The art of acceptance, if you will.

Acceptance does not mean giving in. At times the idea of accepting something can feel like we are giving in, surrendering, engaging in an act of shameful weakness, but we’re not and it isn’t. Not even close. If acceptance is an act of weakness then why is it so hard to do? In truth, acceptance right sizes the reality we are in and, as a result, places us in the strongest possible vantage point from which we can manage our lives.

But why is accepting our realities so hard to so? I think there are several answers. One answer is habit. John Steinbeck said, “We are creatures of habit, a very senseless species.” How true. Most, if not all if us, know couples who are miserable together but stay together anyway. Most, if not all of us, know people who stay in jobs that make them miserable because change is big-time scary. Better the devil you know, is the tragically misguided tenet on those fronts.

I think fear of change is often our biggest obstacle to acceptance. If you accept something you then have to deal with it, which likely means change and change often requires us to take a walk into the unknown. And that can be scary.

But if we do this, and give ourselves permission to take a walk into the unknown, an extraordinary thing begins to emerge from the mist of doubt and step into the light of day. An awareness that we’re okay. We really are okay. And we are okay because no matter where we go, we are there. This emerging awareness leads us to a light that lets each of us see that as long you and I are present in our respective walks into the unknown, we are each our strongest ally.

Once this awareness grows and strengthens, the art of acceptance can be a welcome endeavor. You, like me, get to discover that while change is coming, you are staying, and isn’t that beautiful? I think so.
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My name’s Muggles. Sometimes da boy lets me say a few woids, not always woids da boy or others want ta hear, but I know when he says I can speak a few things, da boy means it. He’s a good boy afta all. Don’t always think so himsef, but he is.

I knowed dis boy now near all his days, since he wadn’t nuttin but up to Daddy’s knee. Yeah…lotsa good times, good memories in doze days. Boy’s Daddy a fine man. He and dat boy loved each other like sunshine and flowers, like rain and soil. Ya take one away da odder near die, which pretty much happened to da boy when Daddy died too soon for making any sense. Boy’s Daddy died and likes da sun be taken from his day, from his world, nowed I think on it some.

But I’m here to tell ya da boy’s okay, gonna be anyways. He got him a hard head and strong heart and mighty will…he be okay, sure enuff.

But da boy’s got some sharp edges on his bones dees days. Sharp edges. Like cut steel I say, cut steel. He been butted around some da past coupla years or so. I near laff my ass off when I see some talkin’ tuff about da boy. I likes to tell’m dey should knee touch da ground and tank da good lord dey didn’t know da boy some 30 years back. I seen dat boy like diesel dynamite break bones and spill red. Bust some up hospital bad and den go for some coffee. Well, maya been more’an coffee now I think on it. Like I said, dey’s some should do some knee touchin’ prayers thankin God da boy ain’t got no use no sir for breakin bones no more.

Used to wag my head laffin. See some big guy way upside a six foot and da boy break’m down like he nuttin but a big ass balsa weed. Funny shit now I think on it. Long time back, doe. Long time back.

But day boy said I could say things to ya all dat’s on my mind. And so I’m sayin the boys got some hard cut steel edges on his mind deez days…can’t say as I blame him none. I’m glad da boy’s ’bout justice deez days, justice and honesty.

Da boy’s grown up, I can tell ya, he’s grown up. But he’s always da boy to me. Good boy he is. Daddy be damned proud. Daddy be proud, and some a ya’all be grateful it ain’t 30 years back. Da boys forgives deez days. I don’t know I would, but he does.

For doze who love’m. I can tell ya times are hard but da boy gonna be okay, he already knowed dis, thought maybe he wanted me to tell ya too, so ya’all don’t worry too much.

Muggles
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