acceptance
Sometimes, acceptance is a bad thing.
Like, when we learn how to accept, we just accept all the time. When we know that we can do nothing about a certain thing, we learn to embrace it and just acknowledge its existence. We learn to think the way we never thought we could think before..."It's there, and there's nothing I can do about it. I just have to swallow it and smile. Yes, that would be the easy way out." None of the namby-pamby about not having things your way, like when you were a kid. None of the tantrums or temper surges. None of the fight-for-what-you-believe-in stuff.
It just gets worse as we get older. We accept and accept and accept...even the things we can do something about. See, that's the irony of it—when we were young, we couldn't let go of the small things. We HAD to have it our way. But as we got older, as our problems became more complicated, as our life got more convoluted, our capacity for acceptance grew. The more we needed to mend things and make them our way, the more we tended not to.
Sometimes, a little conflict might be good for us. It spices things up a little, giving color to our otherwise dull lives. But why stand back when we can do something about it? Why let things flow when we could make it go our way? Why should we accept things as they are and be miserable when we can make our own paths, shape our own destinies, and take control?
Like, when we learn how to accept, we just accept all the time. When we know that we can do nothing about a certain thing, we learn to embrace it and just acknowledge its existence. We learn to think the way we never thought we could think before..."It's there, and there's nothing I can do about it. I just have to swallow it and smile. Yes, that would be the easy way out." None of the namby-pamby about not having things your way, like when you were a kid. None of the tantrums or temper surges. None of the fight-for-what-you-believe-in stuff.
It just gets worse as we get older. We accept and accept and accept...even the things we can do something about. See, that's the irony of it—when we were young, we couldn't let go of the small things. We HAD to have it our way. But as we got older, as our problems became more complicated, as our life got more convoluted, our capacity for acceptance grew. The more we needed to mend things and make them our way, the more we tended not to.
Sometimes, a little conflict might be good for us. It spices things up a little, giving color to our otherwise dull lives. But why stand back when we can do something about it? Why let things flow when we could make it go our way? Why should we accept things as they are and be miserable when we can make our own paths, shape our own destinies, and take control?
