Acceptance

This was supposed to be fun, about the enjoyment of writing. It’s not, when you think about it too much. 

Yesterday I got to do Yoga for the first time in a couple weeks. She had us do Tree pose with our eyes closed, and insisted we keep them closed and just accept where we are. I couldn’t get there. While I can do the pose with my eyes open, closed, I kept flapping. Couldn’t make it stick. Kept over-thinking it.

It starts in the closet each morning, matching my expectations for the day with my dress. I’m going straight-up business today to bolster my stance when I speak about the last project I was on, and the difference between Agile and Waterfall. I need all the help I can get.

I’m projecting Andrew Chalk in the other room now, via Wi-Fi enabled Soundlink Air speakers, by Bose. One speaker costs $349. I had to pay Apple $19 to talk me through the setup since it didn’t work as seamlessly as I was told. The Apple tech basically read something he found by Googling the owners manual, a workaround if the software app doesn’t download properly.

The woman in the third row of our new commuter van was complaining that the volume was too loud, so I fixed that while driving, with one hand on the wheel doing 60 and the other, finding the Fade function on the knob. Fixed that.

Acceptance is hard because there is compromise there. You don’t get what you want, or what you thought you wanted. In fact, what you thought you wanted probably wasn’t right anyway. It is a form of letting go.

About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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