Acceptance helps, believe me

I spent much of the winter reading a book, The Believer, by Sarah Krasnostein. Every few days I would dip back into it. Other things were preoccupying me, but I never lost interest in the book. It’s nonfiction, about people who believe things that many of us do not, covering people in various religious sects, UFO believers, ghost hunters, and mentions unexplained events. It’s an exploration of what motivates them, how different we all are, and yet how similar we can be too. It was unlike almost anything I have read, and I’m not even sure what the author’s message was yet (I’ll be thinking about it for a while), but the people she followed and their stories were compelling.

Much of the book was about individuals. Some were parents, some weren't. That was all irrelevant, in many ways. But you never know when a book, any book, will pop up with an explanation or comment that I can equate to our No Kidding situations.

Her final sentences included one about acceptance. I really liked it, as often in this community people rage against the idea of acceptance. I think I probably did too, until I realised that acceptance for me wasn’t a rejection of everything I had been through, it wasn’t betrayal, and it didn’t mean forgetting.

She wrote, “… acceptance is not the euphoric relief one finds on waking from a nightmare …” That explains so much, and I really like it. When we talk about acceptance after loss or grief, I know a lot of people think that it means we have to like the outcome. When for me, it is simply a calm acceptance of the facts.

She went on to say that acceptance is really the solidity that comes from embracing … reality …” I’ve edited out some words at the end, simply because this phrase – “the solidity that comes from embracing …  reality” – says it all for me. It explains the serenity that accompanies acceptance. Knowing, for certain, that this was my life and that raging against it would do nothing to change the realities of that life, brought a degree of comfort and certainty that allowed me to continue to move forward. 

 

I've written a lot about Acceptance. You can find other posts about it by clicking here.

Connections

It constantly delights me to see internet friends meet up. It happens less rarely for me, simply because I’m on the other side of the world from most who read my blog, or who used the Ectopic Pregnancy Trust messageboards with me all those years ago. It’s just a fact that most English-speaking people are in the northern hemisphere. That said, I’ve had several internet friends come to visit and stay (New Zealand is a great tourist destination, and Wellington is conveniently situated for a visit, hint hint!), and I’ve imposed on a few (they didn’t get a choice!) in England in the past too. Or we’ve met up for a wonderful day in sunny Slovenia! I’ve still to venture back to the US and Canada in the last 15 years. I have a bunch of internet friends there I can’t wait to see. I think The Husband is going to have to come over a week or two (or even three) later, to give me the time and space to meet up with these friends. Sounds like a plan, don't you think?

Without exception, it was a joy to connect in real life. Online, I've found that our personalities still come through, and we don’t even have to talk about what originally brought us together to feel that connection. (We often don’t, if there are husbands around who are less open to discussing ectopics or infertility or childlessness, though sometimes they surprise us!) We've often said everything we need to say about those topics, and we can just enjoy getting to know each other again in real life.

Connection – however we find it – is so valuable to our sense of value, our feelings of belonging, and worth, to finding wisdom, and to feeling okay about ourselves. Connection – whether it be in person, or online – is part of what makes us human. It sustains us through difficult times, even when real life relationships might falter. Or it fills gaps, meaning that we don’t expect everything from our “in person/real life” friends and families, taking the pressure off, and allowing us to feel grace. Hopefully, around this week, I am rejoicing in a few connections again. (I'll explain more in due course, if all works out). I hope you have found people for this. If not, this is one of the reasons I am still here. And it is certainly why I cherish the relationships I have with my readers, and with other bloggers.