Anatomy of Acceptance

Lately, I have been writing a lot about staying present, maintaining the vision of abundant health, having compassion for myself and thus others, and most of all, accepting “what is” on a minute by minute basis. It is not just Parkinson’s that has required this of me, but life itself in all its mess. The PD has merely accentuated the necessity of these things and has enhanced my ability to practice them. For this, it has been my greatest gift.

I have worked with meditation and staying present for nearly four decades and nothing could have brought me closer to God and the inherent connection of all things than having a so-called “incurable disease.” I have learned to accept the things I can and cannot do on a daily basis, which in turn helps me to accept anything that life has to throw at me.

However, this is not going to be an article about my healing journey with PD so much as it is a piece on the nature of acceptance and all that it entails. It is relevant for everyone whether they are on a spiritual journey or not, because acceptance requires something more from us that is of a spiritual nature.

Acceptance brings us closer to the essence of life.

Through my personal journey and working with hundreds of students, I've discovered that acceptance necessitates a refined energy. This energy enables us to practice non-judgmental self-observation, which in turn allows our hearts to open and process grief. This grief encompasses all forms of loss, including death, illness, unmet expectations, betrayal, failure, and even the letting go of our perceived identity.

Acceptance involves presence, grief, surrender, and flow.

We are often unaware of the environment that shapes us. The constant influx of judgmental thoughts, desires, and expectations is as natural to us as breathing. We are enthralled by the unfolding drama of our lives, much like those in Plato's cave captivated by shadows. Our only path to awakening from this illusion is through presence.

Most people live in a mesmerized state, which makes it impossible to accept life as it is. Our identities are so intertwined with our beliefs and expectations that we cannot flow with reality. This creates an illusion that becomes the norm, leading to resistance and significant suffering. This illusion is fueled by fear, insecurity, pride, and self-importance, among other things, causing us to resort to control.

Control is the opposite of acceptance.

If I live out my day fearing inwardly how much slower I am, how things are getting worse, how I want it to be like before, how life is going to get more difficult, I am not only miserable and depressed, but also making my situation worse. My stress increases which in turn negatively impacts my symptoms.

All of these thought forms are based in comparison to a previous state in the past and non-existent states in the future and are not based in the present reality of now.

With presence and observation of these thoughts and feelings, my seeing extracts me from the drama of my fear. I stop and with gratitude understand their falsehood. This makes acceptance possible. If I am slow, I am slow and that is that. It does not mean worse in the true scope of healing and definitely has nothing to do with my state in the future. A smidgeon of that fear is released, making room for the strength to accept. Consistently practicing this over many months has enabled me to live in a state of flow, free from resistance, accepting what is without wishing for things to be different.

This has allowed me a new level of freedom.

This profound level of acceptance doesn't require a brush with death or a life-altering illness. Instead, it arises from consistently observing our attachments and the subtle, ongoing diminishment of our ego. This process strengthens our core Being, enabling us to more readily accept and endure any circumstance.

I'm often uncertain whether grief or surrender follows presence, as I've experienced both sequences. Grief arrives in waves, carrying a sense of loss that isn't quite acceptance. In essence, grief is the journey of confronting loss. While I might attempt to resist the reality of loss through distraction or substitution, ultimately, these efforts never restore what is gone.

Grief, in my experience, is a profound process of letting go. It unfolds according to its own schedule and in its unique way. Ultimately, there is an energy that allows the surrender to happen and enter a depth of feeling that was previously impossible to reach. Grief facilitates my surrender, a surrender that occurs naturally when I cease striving for it.

Surrender is giving up the fight.

In a spiritual sense, I have found that my greatest breakthroughs happened when I gave up trying. I'd reach a point where I could no longer push against reality. My egoism could not maintain what was needed. I had to give in to something other than myself and my valiant effort.

Surrender requires an active part of myself to give the go ahead to stop trying, like letting go of some effort that cannot be sustained. One can imagine a person clinging to a cliff face, acutely aware of the dwindling moments before they must make a choice: to accept and release their grip.

It’s the moment one jumps off the diving board.
It’s the decision to speak the truth.
It’s giving in to a higher power.
It’s losing control.

This is what allows me to accept. I have no idea of the future but, in faith, I flow with what the Universe has dished out. I experience the chips falling where they may without resistance and oddly, without fear.

I can move through life as part of a divine plan with little to no effort and with all the freedom from trying to fit it into my narrative, because…there is no more narrative…just flow.