Radical Acceptance Part II

Life is suffering. The first of the four nobel truths of Buddhism. I go back to this again and again, because it is so important.

The Christian equivalent of this is that we are fallen creatures in a fallen world. Pain and suffering were not part of God's original plan of creation. They are the consequence of humanity's choice to sin (original sin). We suffer because original sin separates us from God. We will suffer until we are in complete union with him again. Part of that suffering is death, and that's what I'm reflecting on today.

But not death so much as the reality that my grandfather is going to die very soon, probably within a few days of my writing this. Lesley pointed out that she's never known anyone quite like him. He knows he is going to die. He knows he is going to die soon. Yet, he laughs, smiles, teases, gets out of bed and visits those who have come to visit him. He still remembers to say, "Thank you," when someone gets him something to eat or something to drink or pays him a compliment. He is gracious, despite his obvious physical pain and impending departure.

"Passing away," "passed on," "crossing the bar," and all of the other euphemisms we use cannot capture the same meaning as "death." My grandfather is going to meet death as a friend, another visitor. There's no reason to call it by any other name. He's not "passing on" or "passing away." He's dying. That's the reality.

That's the reality that he has accepted. He told me quite plainly that he's ready to die. "I ain't really scared of it neither," he said. "You have no reason to be scared of it," I responded. My grandfather is dying.

That's the reality he has accepted.

It's a lot harder for some others in my family to accept that reality. He's ready to go, but there are those who aren't ready to let him go. Accepting the reality of suffering and of death is really all we can do, though. To do otherwise is to create more suffering. We often suffer more because we cling to this myth that we shouldn't suffer, or that things shouldn't hurt.

The Dalai Lama put it in perspective for me in his book, The Art of Happiness. He states that when people suffer, they often ask the question, "Why me?" A better question, he teaches, would be to ask, "Why not me?" After all, he continues, what great thing have I done that I deserve not to suffer?

So how do I deal with suffering in my life? Here are 7 basic principles that I have found make the suffering in my life easier to manage:

1. I accept one thing at a time. Not even one day at a time. One thing at a time. I cannot do anything except what I'm doing right now. When I think about all of the things that have happened to my family over the last few years, my brother's motorcycle accident that nearly claimed his life, Nathaniel's near death and all of the subsequent issues we've dealt with due to his hemophilia and lung damage, my grandfather's cancer, treatment, and now immanent death, it's pretty overwhelming. The fact is, though, that there is nothing I can do about all of that. So what do I do? One thing at a time. When I'm at work, I do my work. When I'm in the hospital with Nathaniel, I'm in the hospital with Nathaniel. When I'm sitting across from my grandfather, I'm sitting across from my grandfather. One thing at a time makes it more manageable. What this "one thing at a time" attitude also does is allow me to enjoy the fun things in life. If I'm thinking about Nathaniel's illness, I miss that proud, somewhat self-satisfied smile he gets when he accomplishes something new. If I'm focusing on my grandfather's cancer all the time, I miss him teasing my sister about farting. One thing at a time means that I am able to enjoy the fun moments that come intermingled with the painful ones.

2. I accept all things with a spirit of deep gratitude. The next breath I take is a gift from God. I have nothing that has not been given to me in some way or another. I am so grateful for it all. What right do I have to make a demand on anyone for anything? It's all a gift. Gratitude becomes a way of life. My fundamental belief that everything is a gift frees me from a sense of entitlement. Lesley does not have to be married to me. My children do not have to love me or treat me with respect. My friends do not have to be my friends. These are all gifts. I don't deserve Lesley's love. I don't deserve my children's respect. I don't deserve my friends. Everything is a gift, and I am grateful for it all. If we don't understand that a gift is something that is freely given, we miss the point of this. We do not earn gifts by giving gifts to others. A gift is something freely given. I cannot demand a gift from somone. I should not have the expectation that someone will give me a gift. Here's a nugget for you: being grateful is the secret to true happiness.

3. I accept that suffering is a part of life. I don't fight it. That doesn't mean that if I get a headache, I won't take some advil. My brother said one of the smartest things I've ever heard, "Sure Jesus slept outside with a rock for a pillow, but I bet he looked for the softest rock he could find." Suffering is a part of life. Accepting that reality doesn't mean doing nothing about it. It just means that I'm not going to approach it with a sense of victimization. I'm also not going to take my suffering out on others.

4. I accept life on life's terms. I'm not in control of anything in this world except me. The winds (and sometimes storms) of life are going to blow where they will. Sometimes they will blow from behind me, pushing me forward. Sometimes they will be headwinds, making me have to work harder to get where I need to be. I can't change the direction of the wind. I accept it. I also accept death on life's terms. I cannot control death, either, but it  is a part of life. People and things die. What good is arguing against it?

5. I accept that people are fallible (including me). I am a fallible, struggling, ignorant person. And so is everybody else. (No offense intended.) People screw up. I screw up. My friends sometimes don't call me when they need to cancel. Sometimes I don't call. My wife sometimes doesn't think about how a decision she makes might affect me. Sometimes I don't think how something might affect her, too. The person on the road sometimes cuts me off in traffic. I've cut others off. None of us are perfect. I don't expect people to be. I don't expect me to be either. So, I'm going to be myself around you, nothing more, nothing less. I also will let you be yourself around me. It really is ok to be yourself, smiles and warts, pimples and posies and all.

6. I accept that God is God, and I am not. This means two things. First, I am not the center of the universe. The world does not revolve around me. Second, it means that I am not in control. I've already said a lot about that. I am not in control of the world, so it is not going to be the way I want it to be.  

7. I also accept God as God. Accepting that God is God and accepting God as God has an important distinction, and both are necessary. Accepting that God is God means that I do not think I am God. Accepting God as God means I do not want him to be anything other than who he is. Many people say that they accept that God is God, but then go on to attempt to define God according to their idea of who he should be. The fact is, there is no pretense in God. He cannot be anything other than himself. I'm pretty sure he knows more about things than I do, so I'm just going to let him be who he is and try to get to know him, rather than try to remake him according to the way I'd like him to be. Since the end of all my suffering will be when I am one with God, I want to make sure it's really God with whom I am seeking unity, and not some image of God that I've made up. I let God be himself with me.

So, it all boils down to acceptance...Radical Acceptance. I've written about this before, but I've been thinking about it more with the death of my grandfather fast approaching.