acceptance.
In Zen Buddhism, the practice of non-attachment inspires that there is only now, and that nothing is forever and we can choose to create a sufferer story and hold it tight hoping that we can fix a situation or change it, attached to the outcome, or we can just accept. I like this as a practice to become my essential nature, all that I Am. This doesn’t mean I can’t manifest my life; indeed I manifest it all, even things I don’t know what to do with, situations I may not like as my teacher. My practice now it to accept all that I bring to my own table, to accept it in hopes my cravings will lighten. I might just free up some of those chains I place around my being. And so I learn acceptance.
*
I accept that for the first time in my life I am content to live where I live. I find myself searching for that familiar struggle and frayed edged longing to leave, to move, to explore more, and it’s just not there. My search for space is done. For now. And yet I find myself not knowing what to do without it. It had defined me. It’s been my partner, a part of me for so long. I accept that I am here and that I love it here, that I don’t want to move. Which really sounds outlandish for me, but it’s here and now and it is. I accept a home.
I accept that I live with a four and ½ year old and that four and ½ year olds need time, love and understanding. They need rhythm, excitement, silliness and power. They need quiet time and a shit load of running around. They need not be expected to listen all the time or sit still or to eat what anybody else wants them to eat. I accept they are a whitwind of messy goodness and pain-in-the-ass sass.
I accept that I fail my four and ½ year old. I make her cry or I cry in front of her. I choose to be impatient instead of breathing and stepping back and feeling the slowness. I accept how I mother, how I try to mother. I accept that I want to try differnt things and I accept that I toss them out after trying. I accept my raw emotion as mother, I accept that love can sting and sing all in one moment.
I accept my body. Its curve and bulge and squishiness. I accept that my sides spill like waterfalls over my too tight waistbands and I just don’t look like I looked 11 months ago. I accept that I want to look like I looked 11 months ago. I accept that my boobs point down and to even to write that makes me smile big. I accept the fat while I wait for it to leave.
I accept my yoga practice as it is; anywhere from 2 minutes to an hour each morning. I accept that I have to get off the mat 10 times during that duration to stir mush, breastfeed or burp a baby, mediate a squabble over two sisters, take an urgent pee or pour a glass of water. I accept that my Chaturanga Dandasana burns my arms and my deep twists are hindered by the extra around my midline and that my spine feels squashed and short instead of long and expanding. I accept my heart center folds in right now. For a moment I judged myself for telling my kids that they can watch me practice or pull their mats next to me and practice with me; but they cannot touch me, climb on me or yell in my face. Now I accept those small needs and that I communicate them firmly.
I accept my husband and our relationship. I accept the journey we are both on, finding space in this new land and comfort in these surrounding. Moving is up there with death and divorce as bringer of all things stressful. We’ve been moving for almost a year now, and still not totally settled. But it’s not death or divorce and I accept this process of moving as it carries us closer to home. I accept my role in turning towards my husband instead of away while we take this journey. I accept myself in those moments I need to turn away, and I accept him in his. I accept his snore, his slob and his gentle and corny way of reaching out to me in love.
I accept that I am a full time mother with selfish needs. Like putting on high heels and leaving the house and not telling anyone where I am going or hiring a house cleaner or a babysitter for the whole day or putting on Mary Poppins two times so I can write or sleep or read a magazine or feeding the kids toast for a couple meals in a row. I accept these needs.
I accept the rain as it falls when I want to take the kids walking.
I accept my budget.
I accept long hour of uninterupted sleep.
I accept fatigue.
I accept my new bed that is totally uncomfortable and I accept that I don’t like it and want a different one.
I accept that I can’t do this alone, that I need a Mother Tribe around me; a community.
I accept stinky breath in the morning from little mouths.
I accept that to have land and a decent house we will end up buying a bit out of the ‘city’. I accept the drive and the country life and the mountains and the rivers and the farmers that will be my neighbors.
I accept my laundry pile, my drawer of single socks, my pee and baby spit-up scented sofa and the rotting kale in the fridge.
I accept that while I continually process Z’s birth, I am still resentful of people, uneasy about moments, doubting my choices and wishing it a bit different. I accept the birth. I accept my feelings about it. I accept that those feelings make me uncomfortable and I accept the discomfort. This birth has gifted me deep compassion and I can’t ignore my calling to get back birth work any longer.
I accept breath and it’s need to come through to me.
I accept life force energy inside me and around me.
I accept the sun peaking through the clouds and sparkling on the cracked wet pavement.
I accept that it will be a while before I can do any work outside the house. I accept I have a newborn and this is the time to just be.
I accept abundance.
I accept long hours alone while my husband works.
I accept the cries of the baby and the wails of a two year old and the kicks of a four year old.
I accept the warmth of a small body nuzzled against my chest all night long.
I accept coo’s and gurgles and small fingers wrapped around my own.
I accept my strength.
I accept phonecalls and ignoring phonecalls, too.
I accept my raging and volatile hormones.
I accept the delicate nature of post partum and I finally accept I am not always the strong, positive natured, constantly joyful being that others around me would like me to be. I accept depression. I accept being ugly.
I accept that it takes 2 hours to leave my house. I accept it when I forget diapers and wipes.
I accept the lecture my friend and I received from the grumpy old couple at the Co-op (in another county) who came up to us to tell us our kids were too loud and that we were failing at socializing them in the proper way. Yes, I even accept them as well as my too loud kids.
I accept sickness and disease in those I love.
I accept best friends spending long hours on planes and layovers, lugging kids and strollers and carseats, to visit me.
I accept healing and that it can happen. I accept that I am a healer in my own right.
I accept my anger and my right to express it.
I accept love. I accept love. I accept love.
*
I don’t attach myself to these things. They are life.
Some things are so easy for me to accept. Some things are so very hard.
*
I accept these beings, their presence and their wisdom.
I accept being read. I accept writing. I accept you.
I’ve been reading you for awhile now but I don’t think I’ve ever commented. I live a very different life than you do, I have two boys, I am married to a police officer and I have lived since birth in one of the largest cities in the Country. However right this moment I want to be you. I want to accept all of the things in my life. Thank you for reminding me that it is okay to accept the good and the bad, the happy and not so happy. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
And your girls are beautiful and look so happy.
Comment by Jennifer — March 30, 2008 @ 2:55 pm
Simply inspiring. Nuff said. Except to add that your kidlets are simply edible.
Comment by Awake — March 30, 2008 @ 5:10 pm
Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have no idea how much I needed to read that this morning.
Comment by Jane — March 30, 2008 @ 5:14 pm
We all need more acceptance. I need to walk around saying these things to myself — thanks for the reminder. And you are so right about 4 and a half year olds… Strong, sassy little buggers.
Comment by Beth — March 30, 2008 @ 5:29 pm
i started a post similar to this one a couple of days ago on my new blog. Except mine goes something like “i better accept _ because otherwise i’ll go insane trying to deny it.” it’s still in draft mode…and yours has inspired me to come from a place of self-love as well as outer love as well. funny how we’re on the same wavelength. maybe it’s a mom thing. thank you for writing this…i accept it into my heart and smile with the seredipity of it!
peace,
Lillithmother
Comment by Lil — March 30, 2008 @ 5:40 pm
i started a post similar to this one a couple of days ago on my new blog. Except mine goes something like “i better accept _ because otherwise i’ll go insane trying to deny it.” it’s still in draft mode…and yours has inspired me to come from a place of self-love as well as outer love as well. funny how we’re on the same wavelength. maybe it’s a mom thing. thank you for writing this…i accept it into my heart and smile with the seredipity of it!
peace,
Lillithmother
Comment by Lil — March 30, 2008 @ 5:41 pm
I accept a place in your Mother Tribe, if you’ll have me.
Comment by Jena — March 30, 2008 @ 5:50 pm
What’s funny is that I am on a blog break, but I knew that you would be writing, somehow, soon. I felt that I needed to read your words, and wow - I so did. Because in my life, I’ve always been so chained to unacceptance in my life (happy, joyful even, grateful always, but yearning for what’s different than what I have). I am more chained to these feelings now than ever, and I just can’t accept that. I know I need a better place for myself mentally, and I keep searching for change in every sliver of my life, hoping it will be the catalyst I need. According to your words, I can stop all that nonsense and just BE. Magical thinking, Wise One. Because Being is really all there is in this life, because what we have is what IS, and what we want, more often than not, is always Imperfect and will lead us back to Yearning once again, somehow.
So how the hell do I get to your mental place? Cousel me, Internet friend. I’m on a blog break, for the most part, though as I said, I couldn’t not check in here today (as I was peeking in on Brooke).
You radiate strength.
Comment by Joanna — March 30, 2008 @ 8:25 pm
absolutely beautiful post
thank you so much, I must tell you how much this, what you have shared postpartum, has helped me.
Comment by j — March 30, 2008 @ 8:32 pm
..and i love you.
i think the itsy bitsy amount of acceptance i’ve been able to muster throughout parenthood is the one thing that’s allowed me to survive it most days. much of this i learned directly from you.
here are mine: i accept no money in the back account. i accept being part of a duo of unemployed parents. i accept that my carpet has poop and pee stains. i accept that one of my greatest and dearest friends lives in WA, far from my physical reach. i accept that i am getting older.
Comment by meremortal — March 31, 2008 @ 4:13 pm
i accept peace and love and the feeling of gratitude for having found your voice in my life.
Comment by jouette — March 31, 2008 @ 6:56 pm
Such love you must have for yourself to bring all of this acceptance into your life … even the acceptance you struggle for. For me that is what it all boils down to. Love of self. Nothing else is truly possible without it.
Comment by gearhead mama — March 31, 2008 @ 8:07 pm
This is maybe one of the favorite things of your’s I’ve ever read. I have come back to read this several times, to take it all in once again. (Forgive me for being a blog stalker)
To accept it all, without judgment or labeling or coming to conclusion, just to accept, it is like realizing I hold the keys to my own prison cell, free to step out at any time.
I’ve written a page long response to your words here, my own acceptance list, freedom. Maybe one day I’ll share it with you.
I love you.
Comment by bella — March 31, 2008 @ 8:45 pm
I more than accept you, I EMBRACE you, in all of your self-perceived imperfections (which of course, make you perfect). This has been sooo inspiring. I am going to do my own. God you are so amazing. I’m choked up with thankfulness for knowing you. XOXO
Comment by Courtney — March 31, 2008 @ 9:15 pm
this makes me want to wrap my arms around myself and hug hard. it also made a slight smile spread across my disconcerned face as i discovered my dog tearing apart the poop filled diapers waiting to be washed which won’t be washed because the washer is broke.
it is what it is.
i need a mother tribe around me too love…
Comment by jessamyn — April 1, 2008 @ 8:29 pm
hi. don’t know how i found your site, but have been touched by your life since just before your 3rd daughter was born… want to thank you especially for this last post. to me it’s like the affirmation prayer of hope. my life is also full of children and women-soul-searching, and so often i feel myself failing in my attempts to accept what and all that is.
i’m letting your mantra-call of acceptance be a welcoming to spring here in switzerland; to ever-new beginnings of now.
tekeal
Comment by tekeal — April 2, 2008 @ 8:31 am
That sounds so healing!
Comment by radical mama — April 2, 2008 @ 1:44 pm
Just wanted to say I linked to this post today…
Comment by Jena — April 2, 2008 @ 7:05 pm
Oh how I love you!
Comment by Doulala — April 2, 2008 @ 11:48 pm
I accept the long journey home from our visit. It was worth it! It was great to meet lovly Zadie and hang w/ the girls. Love, LA
Comment by Leigh Ann — April 4, 2008 @ 4:10 am
This is just gorgeous, and absolutely inspirational. I haven’t read you before (found you through Brooke) but I look forward to more of your wisdom about finding peace in and with our lives.
Comment by Must Be Motherhood — April 9, 2008 @ 5:23 pm
and my third is
so super smiley as well!
and I am so grateful for her being…
a great gift!
I can’t wait to hear your voice soon,
as well as to quit telling the older two,
to get off the baby!
they love her
so much!!!
we all
do!
yummy 5 top family:)
love,
beth
Comment by beth — April 10, 2008 @ 6:45 am
By accepting this gift of acceptance, I open my heart to you. Thank you. You’re beautiful!
Comment by Norea — April 14, 2008 @ 1:56 pm
i needed to read that. i feel lucky and proud to belong to your tribe of mothers seeking and finding and seeking some more.
Comment by Dais — April 15, 2008 @ 2:21 am