As I write, the wind is roaring and rain pellets are pounding the pavement. Today’s wet, wild weather is a timely setting for this three-part Every Soul Has A Story series about anchors. I introduced this topic last week when I shared about my first anchor, which is connection.
Anchors are invisible yet grounding and stabilizing. Anchors strengthen our resilience just when we may collapse, like the trees that are bending but not breaking during these Florida summer storms. My second of three anchors is acceptance. I could simplify this concept and end right here with “it is what it is.”
Although that statement is true, it is superficial and incomplete. Yes, “it is what it is” may help me cope during a life event such as a death or diagnosis. However, I am committed to being honest, authentic, and vulnerable in how I live and as an author. It’s not always easy. Join me as I delve deeper into my evolving anchor of acceptance.
For me, acceptance means embracing the strengths and challenges that comprise all human beings. I define acceptance as meeting people where they are at and loving someone for who they are, even when/if this challenges or conflicts with my own expectations. Acceptance is understanding that all is as it should and will be, even when circumstances and outcomes are not what I envisioned. This is tough for me.
Acceptance has been how I have tried to live since I was a young girl. I’ve accepted that people do not change. I’ve accepted that not all souls are on a purposeful path of love, light, and insight. I’ve accepted that I cannot control others’ actions, gestures, or words.
However, I know that acceptance is difficult. In fact, I realized how tough it can be to fully accept a person or situation as I sifted through my thoughts like prepping flour prior to baking. How can I honestly claim acceptance as my anchor if I still struggle with fully letting go?
I believe self-acceptance is necessary to accept other people. I cannot yet (I am working toward mastering this!) let go of how I envision an outcome or interaction. I struggle with feeling disappointed when a loved one doesn’t meet my expectations. Yet I do accept others’ differences. After processing emotions that arise, I accept what is and what will be.
To be frank, I’m posting this blog a bit late because my insightful son proofread it. Alec’s feedback and questions unplugged me. Tears I didn’t even know existed erupted and poured like lava down my cheeks. I am grateful for this precious moment with Alec, and I accept that the timing is just as it ought to be. My husband also pushed me to dive in and not just “stay near the rim,” and I am thankful.
Acceptance is the second of my three lifetime anchors. And I’m still working on solidifying and being consistent in this area. What are your anchors? How do you emerge and thrive as you weather life’s storms? I would love to hear from you! And I look forward to reading your comments about what acceptance means to you.