There is no chain so strong as that of unfulfilled expectation.

No tether more binding than that which holds to the anchor of an image of a life one believes should have been theirs.

Acceptance is not resignation.

It is not a declaration of surrender.

Rather, when truly and deeply drunk it is the draught that changes the fight – no longer against what is but for what can be.

Acceptance transforms.

Chains give way.

Anchors become wings.

And against the backdrop of an endless sky there is room for the one thing that matters most.


Acceptance is not surrender.

It is a set of wings.

17 thoughts on “acceptance

  1. So true and real. Beautiful. Thank you. My favorite line? “Rather, when truly and deeply drunk it is the draught that changes the fight – no longer against what is but for what can be.”

  2. Acceptance of my children means extending the same grace to them that they daily extend to me. It requires self reflection and constant awareness of my own rigidity- of how people and this world should be. It enables complete freedom to love and experience others without pretense. And it gives permission to say no to situations and people that welcome the dark instead of light. So thankful for your light this morning.

  3. I needed to read this today. I came up against a group of folks that do not embrace acceptance of their children’s autism. They embrace hate and the desire for erradication. It wounded me for their children. It wounded me for the people burned by their hate.

  4. beautiful. and great. and wonderful.

    i don’t know how to do this yet, but what i’ve noticed is that many people…after receiving an autsim diagnosis in their life…go through these big, epic cycles…it’s too long term to be the stages of grief, and it often ends in a place too positve to be that…but there is something happening, and it’s very structured, many seem to work into the same cycles, wind up in similar places…i can’t get a handle on it yet, but your writing has been a terrific example, just the different places your sweet little one has taken your world view over the years…and now you’ve ended up in this awesome, amazing place…

    i don’t know how to articulate the cycles yet, but they are there. you’re onto something important, life changing…as always. it’s what you do.

    • oh, my friend. you and i have walked this winding path – or ridden this crazy roller coaster, as it were – together, haven’t we? i’m so glad to have had you with me for the ride. you’ve helped me to get to this place. you know that, right?

      • your words have definitely helped me as well…i know when we first met in blog land, i was not in a good place, struggling with the diagnosis…and as i read your growing awareness about your kiddo, her mind and her life and who she was, i just couldn’t stay in the same place with my own thinking. you, brooke, luau, katie: you’re a transformative bunch. i think whatever the nature of the cycle is…and i know there is more than one, some go different directions, and that’s okay…but i know your writing is a beautiful example of it.

    • I totally agree. I see that cycle within myself. So many in my family were informally diagnosed with the formal diagnosis of my oldest daughter. It was a breath-taking paradigm shift. For me, it wasn’t just new information for the future. I had to go back and rethink and relive my daughter’s life in my memories. I had to search for the clues which also led to finding the failures. This was critical for me because I had a much younger child who was also going through a formal diagnosis at that time. And I did NOT want to repeat my mistakes. I also had to rethink my own childhood and the way I felt about my mother…who we now realized had been autistic, and struggled in hundreds of ways with no help or understanding. And I had hated her for much of it. I had already forgiven her and accepted her before this, but now the harder thing was to forgive myself for how I felt about her for many, many years. I also had to rethink my marriage, because, clearly my husband was spectrum. And, finally, I am getting around to addressing my own diagnosis. I don’t have much time for me, and many are depending in me to make their way smooth, but in the quiet spaces, I come to grips with my own spot on the spectrum. I remember learning about assimilation and accommodation in college. Something about learning new information and having a “head knowledge,” but eventually working that new knowledge into the the very fiber of who we are. What was once something new becomes a part of what we know.

      • you make a great point Lisa, that it is not only something a person goes through, but you also have to take into account the generational issues…the people who raised you, their nature, those dependent on you…so many big awarenesses, you articulate it so well. and i do hope you can find time and quiet spaces to consider your own place on the spectrum. i know that is easier said than done, but you clearly have a gift for seeing the big picture, in others and in your own life as well. enjoyed your comment.

  5. “no longer against what is but for what can be” – of course I’m crying, of course. As Nigel continues with his transition to adulthood, this is where we are. *more crying* It is freeing, yet huge and somewhat scary, and intensely emotional. We are trying to lovingly calibrate his dreams and goals to what he can manage, and it’s exciting. There is no surrender, only acceptance. And love. Thank you for this, my friend.

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