acceptance

seems like when we were young, hope sprang eternal that things would change – that WE would change.  herculean efforts ensued as we worked to become our “best self,”  to better our world, our children, our neighborhoods.

or so it was with me.

cycle after cycle of solutions were regularly discovered as i sought to become everything beautiful with nothing broken.  at some point in this revolving process i began to wonder what might happen if i were to embrace my brokenness.  and so i did.  but after a time, this merely landed me in hell, broken on the floor of some dark cave.  sometime after this i was reminded again of my beauty, and so i began the tedious journey of balancing both beauty and brokenness.

now, older and wiser, i find that i care less for how beautiful or broken i am, i simply accept.  i don’t examine or tally.  i am no longer interested in fighting for change.  i accept.  i am willing to ride change, perhaps still to be changed, but i do not seek it in the same way.  i accept that i simply am what i am.  that this life is what it is.  i smell beauty and comfort pain.  i feel hope, but for spirit not circumstance.

and for me this is more than enough.