Accepting powerlessness does not equate to resignation. Accepting my powerlessness over people, places, and things is working to accept the things I cannot change or control in a way which invites serenity and hope for a different way of existing.
Resignation is acceptance of what is undesirable, but inevitable. Resignation implies resentment and judgment are involved; a sense of, "I have no choice." Accepting my powerlessness is very much a choice, and an impowered one I'm compelled to make every time I recognize I'm in a situation where I cannot control the details or the outcome.
By accepting my powerlessness, I am making two choices: to care for my own sanity, and to live with hope. In accepting my powerlessness, I can release my self-inflicted codependent chains which weigh me down and add to my suffering. By freeing myself from the compulsive desire to influence the outcome of situations that are not mine to own, manage or fix, I can start to regain a sense of peace and calm.
I can only be responsible for me and my reactions. I cannot take on the responsibility of others, their behavior, or their reactions. Embracing that truth brings a great sense of freedom. Letting go and letting God, in whatever form I envision God, returns me to myself. I'm not trying to herd cats or conduct the orchestra while rewriting the score to "make it better." That's not my job. That's not my responsibility. I cannot prevent or protect others from the consequences of their own choices. I cannot be someone else's higher power, nor do I wish to be.
I strive to stay where my feet are, to check in with myself, and to do my best to only manage me. The rest I have to put into the hands of the higher power of my own imagining, and trust that Power will use my love and faith to bring into being what is in my best interest. I also trust that other people's higher powers will do the same for them.
-gws
I was tasked to write out my feelings regarding someone who was one of the biggest adversarial people in my whole life. The exercise designed to help me relinquish and release my long held rage and resentment. I wrote seven and a half pages. I ran out of words. But I didn't run out of rage.
I have carried molten, violent, unfulfilled rage toward this person for at least a decade. This person is dead, and yet I still hold a belly full of rage. Raw, ragged, bitter, acidic rage.
It consumes such resources with its existence. I have carried this wicked ember for so long that despite the fact that it no longer serves a purpose, I don't know how to release it or extinguish it. It is a companion I have grown too used to despite despising that it exists at all. I also cannot help but wonder how life will feel without the burn I've become so used to.
I feel it sitting like a silent scream, desperate to wrack my body in ragged convulsions of hot tears and roaring sobs. I feel that if I were to relinquish my hold on it, the rage would wring me dry, and maybe consume me outright. It feels like once the bottle is uncorked and the demon released, its force, alone, will use me up in a blinding, all-encompassing, soul-fire blaze.
Will I survive it? What will be left of me? What lies beneath it? What will take the place it leaves empty and desolate? Will I be the same when it's done with me?
gws
Words Wishes and Wisdom 