The Boundary of Freedom: Acceptance
- Dr. Tom Wagner
- Aug 2
- 5 min read
Ever been stuck wishing life was different? A sick trip to Ireland, the adventures of a marital counselor, and a monk’s unexpected wisdom all point to one powerful truth. What if the thing standing between you and peace… is your refusal to accept what is?
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HAPPENING TODAY! Sunday, August 2 @ 3:00
Resilience & Creativity: A Concert and Conversation with Royce Martin
“Getting to speak to people from different backgrounds and of different ages was really valuable.” – SMC event attendee
Last week’s SMC installment continued our summer theme of reflecting on those habits of the heart that can lead to greater resilience and happiness. This week’s article, which was first published a couple of years ago, builds upon a theme addressed in last week’s video. Acceptance of reality just the way it is, is the royal road to resilience and happiness. Acceptance of the self, just the way you are, is the royal road to intimacy with the Divine.
By the way, today’s the day that Sunday Morning Café hosts the great Royce Martin for an afternoon of conversation, socialization, music, and fun. There are still a few spots available. Grab tickets here. If you can’t join us live, then be sure to catch up with our podcast that will drop within the next couple of weeks. Thanks for reading. Thanks for listening.
The Boundary of Freedom: Acceptance
1980s Belfast, during “The Troubles,” seemed way safer to me than the chaos of the roadways, just over the border to the south. When our volunteer work in the north concluded, my mates and I took our lives into our hands and headed into the Republic of Ireland behind the wheel of a rental car. Our goal: a make-it-up-as-you-go adventure on the west coast. Navigating a vehicle in that foggy, rain-soaked, emerald blur demanded a kind of precision you’d normally associate with your grandma’s needlepoint kit. I took my turn behind the wheel, threading those impossibly narrow lanes squeezed by stone walls on both sides. Estimating the width of my auto, while driving on the “wrong” side of the street, from the “wrong” side of the car, caused me to soak my new Irish sweater, and my old American undies in heavy anxiety sweat (It was sweat, wasn’t it?). Despite the fact that those roads were obviously designed for leprechauns, unlike my favorite breakfast cereal, Lucky Charms®, they were NOT “magically delicious!” However, Ireland itself most certainly was!
The west of Ireland is dotted with the ancient ruins of crumbly castles and other long-abandoned stonework. Majestic and sheer rock cliffs plunge from hard-to-imagine heights into the sea. I understand that, here and there, tourists, meandering too close to the edge of those bluffs, can take a tragic plunge as well. Quaint pubs with horrible food serve creamy Guinness, accompanied by miniature orchestras of various stringed instruments, pipes, and hand drums. Feet pound to the rhythms of ancient shanties and reels. Then the pub will go as quiet as a monastery chapel for the sung tales of famine, dislocation, loves found and lost, mountain heather, and magical green woods. The jokes and storytelling in those pubs aren’t bad either. Question: “You know what is hundreds of feet long with an asshole every five feet?" Answer: “A Saint Patrick’s Day parade in America!” Next thing you know, a convivial arm might drape over your shoulder as the joke teller bellows, “Get a free pint for my American friend over here!” Like I said, magically delicious!
Sounds like the ideal trip, doesn’t it? It wasn’t. Somehow, the constant damp and chill of Ireland found a way into my sinuses and lungs. I was sick for every bit of that vacation. Here’s the weird thing: despite being sick as a dog, that trip ended up evolving into something worthy of all the descriptions of that last paragraph you read, including the part about “magically delicious!” It was on that trip that I got my first taste of firsthand resilience research. Let me explain.
I woke up on the initial morning of our quest with an awareness that I had developed a serious cold overnight. After the f-bombs fell away, a question emerged: “So what are you going to do, Tom…convalesce in a grandma’s rundown bed and breakfast while your pals are out having fun?” Having set aside nearly all my summer’s work money for this trip, the answer came practically before I’d finished pronouncing the question. Come hell or high water (or phlegm and snot), unless hospitalized, I was going on an adventure!
What came with that decision, over the course of the week, was a series of episodes that revealed the connection between acceptance and happiness. Tara Brach puts it this way, “The boundary to what we can accept is the boundary to our freedom.” Dialectical behavioral therapy (DBT) says it like this, “My capacity to accept what is, rather than I wish was, is my capacity for resilience and happiness.”
The Adventures of a Marital Counselor
With some regularity, I find myself talking to a client/spouse who's taken on a consumer mindset to their marriage. In absence of, what I would call, real deal breakers, they’re simply looking for a spousal upgrade. In instances like these, I’ll say, “Go ahead and divorce, then date around, and then get remarried. After a few years, you’ll be back here.” The reason I can be so cocksure of myself? There is no such thing as a perfect spouse or marriage. Just ask my wife. Here’s the kicker: the bright, shiny thing that originally attracted you to someone will eventually become the thing that will cause you some brand of annoying friction...even incompatibility. The paradox inherent in this example is that the quicker you can come to accept the incompatibility, the quicker the incompatibility will become manageable. It may even become a source of grace, patience, humor, and maturity for both of you.
The Royal Road to Equanimity
Just about a year after I went to Ireland, I met a Trappist monk who once lived with the great twentieth-century mystic and teacher, Thomas Merton. He relayed the story of the day he asked Brother Thomas, “What is the most important thing I can do to have intimacy with God?” I remember the old monk paused for dramatic effect. I wonder if he knew that his pause would lead me to expect a shaft of beatific light to fall upon the both of us. “You know what Brother Thomas told me?” After another pregnant pause, he said, “Be yourself.” I waited for more. The old monk just repeated it, laughed, and returned to his silence. The depth of that simple phrase has echoed through all my years since then.
Since that day, I’ve worked hard to grasp the paradox that “the best version of myself” includes the flaws and imperfections. Coming to an acceptance of that truth is the beginning of the acceptance of this one, unrepeatable life of mine. It’s also the beginning of my capacity to really love anyone else.
Dialogue and Discussion Questions:
Longtime SMC readers know that “the Dialogue” section of this article is set aside for a good conversation over a cup of coffee—with a friend, with a group, or just with yourself! As always, feel free to share your reaction or reflection in the “Comments” section below.
Have you had an experience like the one I had in Ireland, where coming to an acceptance of something that you wish weren’t true allowed you a greater measure of peace or enjoyment?
Is there a situation in your life that you are finding particularly hard to accept? What’s making that hard for you?
Is there a dimension of yourself that you find hard to love or accept? What helps you overcome that obstacle? What have you found that makes that obstacle bigger?
Do you think that there is a difference between accepting imperfection and setting your sights too low?
Please share with the SMC community your thoughts and/or reflections in the comments below.
Morning Tom..I like that answer to the question..how can I grow closer to God"just be yourself".. nothing can be more true!
I gained this insight (and the accompanying relief!) in the relatively brief period of JUST six evolving decades. My at-times relentless self-criticism has often culminated in my inability to ‘just be myself.’
This self-criticism came from a tumultuous upbringing in an alcoholic family., with its prevailing experiences of shame, neglect, violence, financial instability, dread, etc. through the grace of therapists like Tom, friends like Tom, prayer, a wonderful spouse, learning and relinquishing I have become more adept at “just being myself” and basking in God’s delight in my creation.