I have been learning about acceptance lately.

It seemed it would make a nice gift.

Something you can fold up and put in your brain heart.

A note you can take out when:

you are enclosed in the cat scan,

the person you adore can’t give you what you need,

when you have had enough grey days, or

you can’t talk with them about what happened in the day –

ever again,

when the world is a cannibal.

Acceptance is difficult to find. A path that takes training to go along.

Not sure if I really know the way.

Still, I hold out my hand for you to take if you like,

for us to walk down this trail.

Yes? Let’s get started.

Acceptance knows reality plunks itself down as fact.

It is what it is, what it is, what it is, what it is.

Pain is inevitable. Suffering is an option.

It’s the housefly landing, landing, landing

on my wrist, face, self-esteem.

It is the redness of my swollen knee.

It is Death, Inequality, Mediocracy like a concrete wall

reaching all the way to Saturn’s rings.

The living room of the past is trashed,

cushions ripped and lamps broken. It can’t be fixed.

There is no going back to that time, so long ago it feels like right now.

It was a really bad movie but I keep watching it.

There is no rewriting that script, it’s already been played.

The waves in the distance charge unstoppable towards the shore

no matter what I say.

Much more than a housefly,

I thought the gargoyle perched next to me would tear me apart.

Acceptance knows reality doesn’t change its shape

by denying it or jamming it into a lockbox.

It is what it is, what it is, what it is.

Pain exists. Suffering temporal.

Avoiding the gargoyle’s penetrating stare, it gets closer, hot breath burning.

I can scream or make a run for it, or pound with my fists until they bleed.

I can keep a stiff upper lip which could crack at any time,

or bury it in a shallow grave only to resurface rotting at the next rain,

I can drop down on the floor in a bundle, planning never to get up again.

When I try to hold ground against the white-capped wave, it crushes me.

If I cry “this can’t be!” The gargoyle replies “ready or not, here I come.”

Acceptance knows reality has its good days and bad days.

Regardless, they are all days.

It is what it is, what it is.

Pain is assured. Suffering is a choice.

Sometimes it’s not me, it’s you. And then it is me, not you.

Then I stop pointing.

If I remove the blindfold, it’s alright to shout,

“this is bs! It’s Unjust, unfair, not even close to right.”

A passerby hastily tells me “How are you.”

At first they raise their eyebrows when I respond “I feel terrible,”

then like a released hostage they let out “I know what you mean.”

If I accept myself as I am, my muscles relax enough to move.

When I ask myself “what do I do next?”

I try not to be afraid of that formidable question.

As the wave approaches, I can head towards it, dive deep into its belly,

feel its power graze along my spine.

This flushes out my frothing anger, deep well of tears, dizzying confusion.

I can ask the metallic jagged gargoyle “What do you need?”

I look questioning into its red hot eyes and wait.

Its response sounds awful and little bit beautiful.

Acceptance knows reality looks different once the curtain is pulled aside.

It is what it is.

Acknowledge pain. Choose your approach.

On a notepad I list all the times I slammed down the gavel in final judgement,

then ball it up and shoot a hoop into the trash.

I pat my bruised solar plexus as I affirm,

“Even though I feel like crap, I love, honor and accept myself.”

After clearing the room of broken furniture,

I draft up a new plan, ask for a little help.

Today I take notice. The color of the sky, the smell of the earth,

my breath as it travels in me without fanfare,

connecting with all my millions of cells.

I allow myself to smile.

Acceptance knows reality.

It is.

Yes pain is inevitable. Yes suffering is an option.

The water is flat now in between sets,

I float gently treading on its neutral surface.

The hardened gargoyle sings along as I learn to play the guitar,

helps me unpack the groceries, and hands me the phone when there is a call.

And though I may never fully find my way, I keep looking for the trail.

Thank you for coming along with me.