On Slowing Down and Acceptance (Blog #933)

Today I’ve been thinking about slowing down. I’ve been thinking about slowing down a lot lately, but today I’ve been thinking about slowing down and being okay with it. Like really being okay with it, not just saying I am. This has been on my mind because a couple weeks ago I came down with some sinus crud, and it’s seriously put the brakes on my being constantly productive. For example, I haven’t felt much like reading, writing, or going to the gym. What have I felt like doing? Sleeping, sleeping, and watching television, the things I judge myself the most for. Still, I can’t imagine forcing myself to work would help me heal any faster, so I’m left with what one of my friends says is the most difficult thing in all of self-help and spirituality–acceptance.

For me acceptance means being at peace with the way things are in this moment. Yesterday I weighed myself and discovered I’d gained a pound this week. Maybe because I haven’t exercised. Regardless, I can hate this fact (and I kind of do) or I can accept it. And whereas accepting something you don’t like may feel like a resignation, it’s actually an act of empowerment. In denial (my weight is fine, my job is fine, my relationships are fine), we become children who cover our eyes and ears. We cut ourselves off from reality. But in acceptance (my weight is a problem, my job is a problem, my relationships are a problem), we become adults who see and hear clearly and are therefore able to act clearly.

Not that any of this is fun. Tonight I had dinner with a friend who suggested I should date a local celebrity. For a moment, I got excited. But then I looked at his social media and found out he was already dating someone–a girl. Just like that, the fantasy was over. Acceptance. Alas, more than once I’ve put myself through hell wanting someone to be who they weren’t–gay, available, smart, kind, interested. My therapist says she’s done the same thing. Now whenever she finds herself falling for her fatal-attraction type (we all have one), she reminds herself, Do I really want to go down this road again?

What a great question. Experience has taught me what certain people are like in relationships. Likewise, experience has taught me what happens when I eat a certain way, when I don’t exercise my body. I can wish til the cows come home that twenty-two year old twinks were fabulous conversationalists and chocolate cake were a metabolism booster, but these wishes will never come true (no offense, twinks). So at some point (like now), it becomes incumbent upon me to stop wishing things were different than they and–here’s an idea–make responsible choices accordingly.

Like an adult.

Getting back to the idea of slowing down and being okay with it, I’ve talked before about how nothing that really matters happens fast. For example, I’ve grown tremendously through therapy and this blog, but therapy has taken five and a half years, and this blog has taken two and a half. I’ve seen good results from one month of intermittent fasting and eating mostly paleo, but it’s not realistic to think I’m going to lose two pounds a week for the next year. If that were the case, I’d end up weighing eighty pounds. No, there are going to be ups and downs, little setbacks here and there. Our fast-food society would have us believe otherwise, but Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Likewise, healthy bodies, jobs, and relationships aren’t built in a day either.

Last month was the fall equinox. This means that until the winter solstice, there will be increasingly more darkness and less light each day (at least for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere). Accordingly, there will be less heat. And whereas I normally despise the cold, this year I’m okay with it. I won’t say I’m looking forward to it, but I am looking forward to this season because it means slowing down, staying inside, and being more introspective. I’m excited about reading more and working on puzzles, about letting the story of my life unfold one page at a time, one piece at a time.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We think of hope as something pristine, but hope is haggard like we are.

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by

Writer. Dancer. Virgo. Full of rich words. Full of joys. (Usually.)

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