MMM: On Self-Acceptance

". . . I think it's a mistake to ever look for hope outside of one's self. One day the house smells of fresh bread, the next of smoke and blood. One day you faint because the gardener cut his finger off, within a week you're climbing over the corpses of children bombed in a subway. What hope can there be if that is so? I tried to die near the end of the war. The same dream returned each night until I dared not to sleep and grew quite ill. I dreamed I had a child, and even in the dream I saw it was my life, and it was an idiot, and I ran away. But it always crept onto my lap again, clutched at my clothes. Until I thought, if I could kiss it, whatever in it was my own, perhaps I could sleep. And I bent to kiss its broken face, and it was horrible. . . but I kissed it.
I think one must finally take one's life in one's arms." Arthur Miller. AFTER THE FALL.

The thing is: We are who we are.

And there comes a time, when we need to make peace with ourselves.

At what point do we become okay with the fact that we are not perfect, that others may excel at things we don't, that our body doesn't look the we you want it to, or that our relationships haven't panned out the way we expected? At what point does it become okay that we are an introvert instead of an extrovert, or have had some struggles in our life with money, or depression or self-worth, or that we aren't where we thought we would be at this age?

When does all of that become okay? I'll tell you when it becomes okay.

It becomes okay when you say it does.

There is a tendency to live in the "Who I am NOT" or the "What I have done wrong" rather than in the celebration of "Who I AM" and "What I have done right."

I subscribe to this great daily memo that is called MMT which stands for Makes Me Think: Everyday encounters that provoke deep thought. It arrives in my email every morning and I always take the time to read it because it moves me. Sometimes, deeply.

This morning's MMT, which only allows 300 characters to express the thought, someone wrote:

"Today I realized that I went from being really depressed six months ago, to loving a lot of things about my life. The only difference between then and now is that I consciously let go of some things I had been holding onto."

I love this because it expresses the freedom that comes with claiming your life. Making peace.

It's the same reason that I listen to Ira Glass and This American Life

Listening to the amazing depth of other people's experiences and the layers of our complexity in all the ways we show up - in heartbreak and laughter, in love and fear, in hope and hopelessness - makes me feel closer to myself, others and the human experience.

There is something powerful that happens when we just embrace who we are, right now.

Yesterday I was on the phone with a group of writers and everyone was reading their piece on procrastination. This is something we beat ourselves up for. Feel "ashamed" of even. But on this call, when we were reading to each other, we laughed together, at ourselves and each other, that someone else could describe our procrastination so exactly; that someone else could put to words a private experience that we thought was ours, alone.

At a moment on the phone just listening to everyone, it struck me: We are so beautiful.

In our imperfection, we are perfect. In our procrastination, we are timely. In our flawed, insecure, uncertainty, we are tender, and vulnerable and pure and innocent.

The other day I was at Safeway doing some last minute shopping. I had my hands full when it appeared I would need a basket, with all my items in hand and balancing products under my chin, I went looking for one. I saw one at a cashier's line and got the attention of a lady standing there.

"Excuse me", I said. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Of course I can, darling," she said. "What is it?"

I asked her if she wouldn't mind bringing me the basket that was on the floor.

"No problem, sweetheart," she said. "Of course I can."

The thing about her was that she enunciated her words very clearly which is why her language struck me. She was sincere and deliberate in her exchange.

I said, "Thank you. Thank you so much"

"No problem, honey. Of course" she said. As in, "Of course. This is what we do for each other". And then she went back to tending her own cart at the check out.

I've never been called so many terms of endearment by one stranger in all my life. But it made me realize something.

I like being called, "darling".

How often do we get called that? How often do we talk to ourselves that way?

Whether you are blissed out in the throws of a most fabulous love affair, or you are in the depths of depression wading your way through - this week, claim yourself, wherever that is. Experience it, head on, and then watch it transform you.

You will find that as it all becomes okay, as your life becomes okay, as YOU become okay, there will emerge a space for something new to be born. It's like on the sidewalks, where there is a crack in the concrete, you will often see a fresh new shoot popping through. Sometimes, we need to give ourselves that kind of space, too.

Everything will change soon enough. But while you are where you are, drop the judgment. Celebrate the comings and goings that make up your human experience.

Take your life into your own arms.

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