Radical Acceptance

Hope, tinged with a bit of regret, strips me of my ability to accept things. It intrudes on this journey I’ve embarked on to see things as they are and not how I want them to be. Why is that so hard?

As I ponder how to approach my life moving forward, there is one thought that scrutinizes me, no matter how hard I try to avoid it:

How the hell did I get here?

What concoction of terrible emotions and events banded together to produce this person I'm supposed to now call 'me'? Did I take a wrong turn somewhere? But when, how, why?

Things are never how they seem, but I can't even understand how they seem to be anymore, let alone how things actually are.

This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill, the story ends. You wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to. You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes. Remember, all I'm offering is the truth. Nothing more.

–Morpheus, The Matrix

The Matrix

Radical acceptance: The process of accepting your intrinsic reality as a way of amending the negative feelings it provokes inside of you.

In order to accept your reality, you need to have the courage to face it. And I mean really face it; not some half-ass peek at the truth. You need to catapult yourself into that dark, disastrous rabbit hole and pray to God you come out of the other end alive, or at least somewhat close to it.

Pulled into the rabbit hole, trudging through the depths of unforgiving naivety, I feel myself fighting every step. But taking it ‘slow’ doesn’t apply when you’re not in control. I'd rather blue-pill my way through every tragedy I've ever faced, with the security of knowing everything I'm ‘supposed' to know. It’s easy to swallow those sugar-coated fairytales you feed yourself. That is until they start to rot inside you.

“Maybe, I got so carried away in my own world that I overlooked something meaningful. Maybe, I was so involved with the idea of control that I forgot about the natural way of things.”

Whatever the maybe is, the fact still remains clear: I must have missed something. Somewhere between the array of numbers composing this stupid matrix, there became room for uncertainty. Thus, acceptance was forced to patiently await my return as I voyaged upwards and onwards, determined to find those little red pills.

Or so I thought.

The Real Red Pill

The real red pill feels like poison to swallow. It’ll go down like acid and burn a hole through everything you once knew. It’ll bleed into your hopes and dreams, and leave a red-tinted mess that can’t be washed away with a few cushy words. Once I started to feel that pain, I didn’t hesitate to claw my way out of that stupid rabbit hole.

It felt like taking a knife to the chest, only for it to be slowly pushed into me, day-by-day, inch-by-inch, for the rest of my sad, measly life. So, I took laps around the truth– embarked on journeys so far away from the truth that I could hardly find my way back.

It didn’t take me long to realize that I didn’t actually want the truth at all. I craved certainty, assurance, and most of all, my pride still intact. But as I naively jumped down that rabbit hole, I realized that my pride was in for an awful ride.

I thought I had missed something, and I did. Sometimes, you don’t even need a red pill. Some of the 'realest' truths are just there, right in front of you.

I thought I wanted the truth, until it took me by the ankles and dragged me down to the pits of my own, personal hell. Now, the truth stares at me with evil eyes and a greedy smirk. She taunts me for being too afraid to accept her, and I let her bask in that satisfaction because it's far easier than embracing her.

Was my red-pill journey just another search for something comfy? Fuelled by hope, I just wanted a truth that didn't hurt so much to accept…that didn't kill me and my pride… that didn't remind me of the things I’ve tried so hard to forget.

I didn't want to learn a truth that would start this internal battle. But the swords are out, my friends, and she's fighting.

Let the battle begin

Acceptance is a beautiful word, capturing a process that I'm biologically hardwired to refuse.

I stare at acceptance like a sign of failure, designed to kill my pride and stagnate my will. I hear it in my heart, those last cries of hope slowly dying out and I wonder: where'd all that hope come from to begin with?

Last I checked, I was a realist who gave up on the idea of hope and happiness, in exchange for a quiet (admittedly lonely) life. Yet, here I am actively engaging in a guilty-pleasure worse than ordering takeout: optimism?

Expose my heart to the mere aura of optimism and all hell may break loose, no joke. It shocks me how fast it begins… the charged battle between hopeful optimism and daunting reality.

Grounded in realism, I’m aware of how easy it is to get swept up in a sea of hope and dreams. It doesn’t help that I have a spirited determination to bring those hopes and dreams to life. It’s a fine sentiment until your lack of control becomes apparent. Your dreams may unfold outside of your control, for better or for worse. The sad thing is, this doesn't stop most people from putting all their eggs in one basket.

Acceptance, as hard as it may be, is a natural force. Despite your pitiful attempts at resisting it, all signs point to show that you have to accept things as they are. As fun as it is– dancing with your hopes and dreams–you’re also duelling with the idea of acceptance like your life depends on it.

You aren't just fighting the idea of acceptance. You're fighting for what you believe in, what drives you, what inspires you to pick up that sword to begin with. Not all dreams are worth fighting for, but some are. And that alone is enough to keep fighting, hoping and praying for that last battle before your blissful victory.

As I lay it out like this, I see a force of nature that could be used for better or for worse. Like an old tool in my dusty, unkempt shed, I didn't even touch the idea of hope for a very long time. I knew how difficult it would be to navigate the forces of hope and acceptance inside me, and I was right. There's a fine line there somewhere, I know there is.

Black and White

I don't love colours as much as I love shades, and it's for a simple reason. Shades may be duller, but they're versatile. They're abstract. Sure, you can look at plain yellow and think: Ooh, sunny! Bright! But Butter, Canary, Gold– these shades hold power to a million different meanings, all in the eye of the beholder.

Life is composed of shades, tints and tones. Nothing is ever as certain as a plain, right-as-rain yellow.

To me, acceptance assumes certainty about a situation. If you tell me to accept a situation that's very clearly uncertain, you make the assumption that I can't figure out the details.

I mean, I have an intuitive mind and I'm down-right determined to the bone. If you’re asking me to accept the painfully uncertain in exchange for closure…well, I’ll take the abstract over certainty any day.

This is my pride we’re talking about. It's win or lose, life or death, black or white. I either give in or give up, there is no in-between. That's how my mind works, and as long as that’s the case, there is no inviting acceptance. I’m just basking in the shades, soaking in the million different meanings of you.

I could keep following my trail of blue pills, in the hopes of finding a red. I could run laps around you, acceptance, till you're all tired out. I could just keep fighting you, piecing together some resemblance of a truth that doesn't hurt to hear…I could give up my entire life.

Truce

We all live on middle ground, convincing ourselves that we don't.

In reality, everything happens on the same plane. We're connected beyond our own awareness, and everything does unfold beyond our control. It all happens on this thing I like to call:

The middle ground. Outside of systemic entrapments, there's a ground we all exist on. Our actions persuade other actions, thoughts evoke thoughts, but it all happens together and simultaneously. Nobody has the upper hand, and nobody really knows the end goal. We're all just scraping by with our heads held too high for our own good.

The reality is, I let denial, pride, hope and a disgusting level of optimism shield me from the reality and fairness of life. Just because things feel unfair, it doesn't mean they really are. It just means it's time to move on.

Letting go only hurts because I've held onto this rope for so long.

The fall is steep and the rope burns as I loosen my grip on it. Fear consumes my breath and my mind goes blank. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know how long the fall will last this time. I don't know what will be, and what won't.

Nothing about embracing acceptance feels right. Feels like a betrayal to who I am.

The Self

As I learn to let go, everything I once knew about myself dissipates.

The core parts of me remain, but the rest washes away as easily as marker. It's important to know yourself, but more importantly, to know the ever-changing parts of you. Those roots you feel inextricably tethered to could easily be ripped out from underneath you, at any point in your life.

That which surrounds the core of you is only a part of life, not you. It’s going to change just as often as life does.

Acceptance means embracing the reality of your situation, even if it goes against everything you once believed in. The actual experience of that feels paradoxical, almost like going against your nature. You’re asked to betray your precious senses, in exchange for pain and disappointment.

But as easily as you garnered hope in another reality, you must break loose and garner hope for this one.

It's hard to hear, but you have to. Radically, some might even say.