Acceptance | Pujakins

Cabbage with holes I began at an early age to learn my role as a would be peacemaker. My parents were both very special and wonderful people, yet they had a lot of differences and often had trouble bridging them. As the eldest and only child by a number of years I had a good deal of practice as a kind of go between for them when there were difficulties to be dealt with. In addition I often found myself with my hands over my ears while my parents attempted to resolve their differences at the top of their lungs. Loving both of them dearly, I was often at a loss as to how to make things better. Most of all I had to deal with my desire for things to be different, and my inability to make this happen.

Fast forward to the present. I recently found myself in the midst of a situation that was very uncomfortable, yet that I could nothing to change. Like all the other times in my life going back to when I was a small child and this was the case, it felt very similar. So in addition I had to deal with these echoes from the past as well as the experience of the present. My nature as a peacemaker, has always made it difficult for me to deal with conflict. This time, as I often do, instead of facing the situation that I was confronted with squarely, I kept wishing things were different.

To be sure that is a natural reaction. Few among us are willing to face a difficult situation without feeling regret as well as the desire to change it in some way to make things easier on everyone. Yet sometimes even with the best of intentions from all concerned, whatever is going on will continue. If I could have accepted this, I would have been better able to come to terms with what was happening. As it was, I had to work hard just to stay calm and keep from trying to help. I have been reflecting on this ever since.

The best that anyone can gain from dealing with a situation where one can do nothing is to allow for a greater sense of compassion to emerge in the heart. A wise woman once quoted me this ancient Hebrew saying: “If there were no grief to hollow out our hearts, where would there be room for joy?” As I have grown older and experienced more grief as well as regret, which is a precursor to grief, I have recognized that there is a treasure to be gained from it. Yet the treasure must be dug out from beneath the stubborn, unyielding crust of denial.

The denial can only be dealt with by my conscious acceptance of my inability to make anything different. As I accept what is and interweave it with threads of compassion, I can come to terms with my own sense of powerlessness, as well as with the pride that weeps over that, and the need to simply let go. The road cannot always be smooth. If there is no grit under the wheals, they will slip and slide without progress. The sandpaper that smooths the rough wood brings out the beauty of the grain. As I allow it to my heart can surely learn to grow.

I had begun writing this column prior to the disastrous tragedy in Paris. It seems even more relevant now that sudden death has as it were, stared us in the face. The media brings it all so close to home. Even so, none of us know the when and the where of our final days in this life here on earth. it is also true that some of us have been given a time limit of sorts, an acknowledgement that our lives have an expiration date. When I hear from someone that this is the case for them, I become more mindful of my own mortality.

There are cultures that are more comfortable with both the prospect and the actuality of death than others. They are more accepting, seeing it as a seamless part of life rather than an end to it. They remain in communication with those who have crossed over into another dimension. To me death appears to signal a change in form, a continuation not a final chapter. I’ve been changing my form since I was born so what is called death can’t be all that different. The most unsettling part of death may be the process of dying and not knowing what may or may not happen next.

Balzac’s final words were said to be, “I go to the great perhaps.” Despite reports to the contrary, no one knows for sure what will happen because it hasn’t yet happened to them. The unknown quantity that represents our change in form can be daunting, even fearsome. What can we say to comfort the feelings of one who has been given an end point to his or her existence? It may seem better not to know, yet the knowledge that there is a time limit on one’s life can in certain ways be helpful. At the least it gives one the opportunity to do what needs doing before the actual event comes about.

When I was a child I wasn’t worried about anything that might happen to me; I greatly feared the death of my parents. As an adult who has since seen the passing of an adult child as well as both parents to their next form, I am well acquainted with the feelings of loss that ensue from the deaths of dear ones. The fear that made me tremble as a young child has become a prayer for the health and happiness of those I hold close to my heart. I recognize the inevitability of death, and I accept it. I also try to make the most of whatever time I may have with those I hold dear.

It is popular to make a “bucket list” of what one wishes to do before “kicking the bucket.” Depending on one’s age, that might include traveling to see distant marvels, finishing certain tasks, parachuting out of an airplane, or a multitude of potential activities that beckon the adventuresome. If and when I have knowledge of my conclusion in this life I will do what I can to finish up what needs to be finished. However, I feel that regardless what the rest of my life may hold rather than plan what to do, it is more important for me simply to continue to learn and grow in as many ways as possible.