Kaspa, this reflection resonated deeply with me. There was a time when my LinkedIn profile boldly declared, "I breathe challenges." Back then, I thrived on control—turning obstacles into achievements, finding the right lever to pull, and forcing outcomes through sheer determination. But reading your words reminded me of the moments when all my effort, all my "breathing challenges," wasn’t enough—when powerlessness became unavoidable.
Those moments were excruciating but transformative. Like you, I’ve learned that sometimes the lever simply doesn’t exist. Acceptance isn’t just about surrendering to the situation; it’s about opening to a different kind of wisdom—a quiet, patient awareness that everything unfolds as it must.
Surrender, as I’ve come to understand it, is about holding space for everything that emerges—the beautiful, the good, the bad, and the ugly. It’s not about transcending but subscending—moving into the depths of my own soul and the experiences of my life. Memories and truths emerge only when they are ready, when they are willing to be released. That willingness is never guaranteed, and surrender becomes a practice of trust and presence. Your retelling of the Buddha’s story reminds me that failure isn’t the opposite of progress; it can be the threshold to something deeper. Thank you for sharing this—it’s a powerful reminder of the grace that can emerge when we stop striving and simply *are.*
I can't believe that all these years and I have never heard about Sujata! That is lovely.
I am shaped by many years of begging, hoping, praying, demanding that my spouse would acknowledge that addiction was destroying his life and our life together. Frustration after frustration, grief after grief, as he denied, or temporarily acknowledged just maybe it was true only to later go back to his addiction.
It was only when I gave up that change occurred. Only when I got in my bones that there was nothing I could do. Only after truly letting go of him/us that I could find peace and see a path for me. (And, I'm happy to say, that, not immediately, but some time after I released my grasp, my partner found his path to acceptance.)
House moves [massive eye roll 👁] a huge test of patience for all. The bit you wrote about knowing you'll be OK resonates - stepping back to remember that is key. Thanks for sharing I just subscribed, and will link to this short story on my newsletter next Sunday. Best wishes.
As I get older, I find acceptance is easier for me. And yes, I had a few experiences that were great teachers, but at the time, I wish I did not have those experiences.
Frustration to acceptance can be a long jouney. My spouse gets annoyed when I say it is what it is, or it's going to be what it is going to be. This is my way of accepting and not trying to control what I cannot control. It's taken me years to come into this acceptance with joy rather than remorse or disappointment. Thank you Kaspa. I always find gems and pearls in your writing.
Great title and subtitle - made me want to read it right away despite having lots of “to do.” A reminder as Manshi Kiyozawa says to “fall down and exist” (raku zai).
On page 25 of the 2nd edition of “December Fan,” Dr Haneda translates raku-zai as “settling down just as we are.” Kiyozawa took the term from Zen - kind of like Dogen’s “drop body-mind”
For me, the shift came not over one thing but over everything at once. This was after almost 40 years of practice, so maybe it had developed in many small increments, but it burst out all at once when I fully understood that mind creates reality and I already live in a pure land.
Kaspa, this reflection resonated deeply with me. There was a time when my LinkedIn profile boldly declared, "I breathe challenges." Back then, I thrived on control—turning obstacles into achievements, finding the right lever to pull, and forcing outcomes through sheer determination. But reading your words reminded me of the moments when all my effort, all my "breathing challenges," wasn’t enough—when powerlessness became unavoidable.
Those moments were excruciating but transformative. Like you, I’ve learned that sometimes the lever simply doesn’t exist. Acceptance isn’t just about surrendering to the situation; it’s about opening to a different kind of wisdom—a quiet, patient awareness that everything unfolds as it must.
Surrender, as I’ve come to understand it, is about holding space for everything that emerges—the beautiful, the good, the bad, and the ugly. It’s not about transcending but subscending—moving into the depths of my own soul and the experiences of my life. Memories and truths emerge only when they are ready, when they are willing to be released. That willingness is never guaranteed, and surrender becomes a practice of trust and presence. Your retelling of the Buddha’s story reminds me that failure isn’t the opposite of progress; it can be the threshold to something deeper. Thank you for sharing this—it’s a powerful reminder of the grace that can emerge when we stop striving and simply *are.*
I can't believe that all these years and I have never heard about Sujata! That is lovely.
I am shaped by many years of begging, hoping, praying, demanding that my spouse would acknowledge that addiction was destroying his life and our life together. Frustration after frustration, grief after grief, as he denied, or temporarily acknowledged just maybe it was true only to later go back to his addiction.
It was only when I gave up that change occurred. Only when I got in my bones that there was nothing I could do. Only after truly letting go of him/us that I could find peace and see a path for me. (And, I'm happy to say, that, not immediately, but some time after I released my grasp, my partner found his path to acceptance.)
Good luck, fingers crossed.
Thanks for sharing Elaine. Glad you were both able to find your way to acceptance.
House moves [massive eye roll 👁] a huge test of patience for all. The bit you wrote about knowing you'll be OK resonates - stepping back to remember that is key. Thanks for sharing I just subscribed, and will link to this short story on my newsletter next Sunday. Best wishes.
Thanks, much appreciated.
As I get older, I find acceptance is easier for me. And yes, I had a few experiences that were great teachers, but at the time, I wish I did not have those experiences.
Ah yes, I know that feeling. Tough when the lessons arrive in such difficult ways.
Frustration to acceptance can be a long jouney. My spouse gets annoyed when I say it is what it is, or it's going to be what it is going to be. This is my way of accepting and not trying to control what I cannot control. It's taken me years to come into this acceptance with joy rather than remorse or disappointment. Thank you Kaspa. I always find gems and pearls in your writing.
Yes makes sense, thanks for sharing. And it can difficult when move to acceptance is at a different pace to others.
Great title and subtitle - made me want to read it right away despite having lots of “to do.” A reminder as Manshi Kiyozawa says to “fall down and exist” (raku zai).
@Rev Patti Do you know where that saying from Manshi comes from? If not it’s a good reminder for me to re-read December Fan, anyway, thanks.
On page 25 of the 2nd edition of “December Fan,” Dr Haneda translates raku-zai as “settling down just as we are.” Kiyozawa took the term from Zen - kind of like Dogen’s “drop body-mind”
Thank you, that's perfect. I'll have a look later. 🙏
For me, the shift came not over one thing but over everything at once. This was after almost 40 years of practice, so maybe it had developed in many small increments, but it burst out all at once when I fully understood that mind creates reality and I already live in a pure land.
Yes, change can be like that - little by little behind the scenes and then suddenly, bam!