What Is Acceptance?
By Bill W.
AA Grapevine - March 1962
One way to get at the meaning of the principle of acceptance is to
meditate upon it in the context of AA's much used prayer, "God grant
me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to
change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."
Essentially this is to ask for the resources of grace by which we may
make spiritual progress under all conditions. Greatly emphasized in
this wonderful prayer is a need for the kind of wisdom that
discriminates between the possible and the impossible. We shall also
see that life's formidable array of pains and problems will require
many different degrees of acceptance as we try to apply this valued
principle.
Sometimes we have to find the right kind of acceptance for each day.
Sometimes we need to develop acceptance for what may come to pass
tomorrow, and yet again we shall have to accept a condition that m ay
never change. Then, too, there frequently has to be a right and
realistic acceptance of grievous flaws within ourselves and serious
faults within those about us - defects that may not be fully remedied
for years, if ever.
All of us will encounter failures, some retrievable and some not. We
shall often meet with defeat - sometimes by accident, sometimes self-
inflicted, and at still other times dealt to us by the injustice and
violence of other people. Most of us will meet up with some degree of
worldly success, and here the problem of the right kind of acceptance
will be really difficult. Then there will be illness and death. How
indeed shall we be able to accept all these?
It is always worthwhile to consider how grossly that good word
acceptance can be misused. It can be warped to justify nearly every
brand of weakness, nonsense, and folly. For instance, we can "accept"
failure as a chronic condition, forever without profit or remedy. We
can "accep t" worldly success pridefully, as something wholly of our
own making. We can also "accept" illness and death as certain
evidence of a hostile and godless universe. With these twistings of
acceptance, we AAs have had vast experience. Hence we constantly try
to remind ourselves that these perversions of acceptance are just
gimmicks for excuse-making: a losing game at which we are, or at
least have been, the world's champions.
This is why we treasure our Serenity Prayer so much. It brings a new
light to us that can dissipate our old-time and nearly fatal habit of
fooling ourselves. In the radiance of this prayer we see that defeat,
rightly accepted, need be no disaster. We now know that we do not
have to run away, nor ought we again try to overcome adversity by
still another bulldozing power drive that can only push up obstacles
before us faster than they can be taken down.
On entering AA, we become the beneficiaries of a very different
experience. Our n ew way of staying sober is literally founded upon
the proposition that "Of ourselves, we are nothing, the Father doeth
the . works." In Steps One and Two of our recovery program, these
ideas are specifically spelled out: "We admitted we were powerless
over alcohol that our lives had become unmanageable" - "Came to
believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to
sanity." We couldn't lick alcohol with our own remaining resources
and so we accepted the further fact that dependence upon a higher
power (if only our AA group) could do this hitherto impossible job.
The moment we were able to fully accept these facts, our release from
the alcohol compulsion had begun. For most of us this pair of
acceptances had required a lot of exertion to achieve. Our whole
treasured philosophy of self-sufficiency had to be cast aside. This
had not been done with old-fashioned willpower; it was instead a
matter of developing the willingness to accept these new facts of
living. We n either ran nor fought. But accept we did. And then we
were free. There had been no irretrievable disaster.
This kind of acceptance and faith is capable of producing 100 percent
sobriety. In fact it usually does; and it must, else we could have no
life at all. But the moment we carry these attitudes into our
emotional problems, we find that only relative results are possible.
Nobody can, for example, become completely free from fear, anger, and
pride. Hence in this life we shall attain nothing like perfect
humility and love. So we shall have to settle, respecting most of our
problems, for a very gradual progress, punctuated sometimes by heavy
setbacks. Our old-time attitudes of "all or nothing" will have to be
abandoned.
Therefore our very first problem is to accept our present
circumstances as they are, ourselves as we are, and the people about
us as they are. This is to adopt a realistic humility without which
no genuine advance can even begin. Again and again, we shall need to
return to that unflattering point of departure. This is an exercise
in acceptance that we can profitably practice every day of our lives.
Provided we strenuously avoid turning these realistic surveys of the
facts of life into unrealistic alibis for apathy or defeatism, they
can be the sure foundation upon which increased emotional health and
therefore spiritual progress can be
built. At least this seems to be my own experience.
Another exercise that I practice is to try for a full inventory of my
blessings and then for a right acceptance of the many gifts that are
mine - both temporal and spiritual. Here I try to achieve a state of
joyful gratitude. When such a brand of gratitude is repeatedly
affirmed and pondered, it can finally displace the natural tendency
to congratulate myself on whatever progress I may have been enabled
to make in some areas of living. I try hard to hold fast to the truth
that a full and thankful heart ca nnot entertain great conceits. When
brimming with gratitude, one's heartbeat must surely result in
outgoing love, the finest emotion that we can ever know.
In times of very rough going, the grateful acceptance of my
blessings, oft repeated, can also bring me some of the serenity of
which our prayer speaks. Whenever I fall under acute pressures I
lengthen my daily walks and slowly repeat our Serenity Prayer in
rhythm to my steps and breathing. If I feel that my pain has in part
been occasioned by others, I try to repeat, "God grant me the
serenity to love their best, and never fear their worst." This benign
healing process of repetition, sometimes necessary to persist with
for days, has seldom failed to restore me to at least a workable
emotional balance and perspective.
Another helpful step is to steadfastly affirm the understanding that
pain can bring. Indeed pain is one of our greatest teachers. Though I
still find it difficult to accept today's pai n and anxiety with any
great degree of serenity - as those more advanced in the spiritual
life seem able to do - I can, if I try hard, give thanks for present
pain nevertheless. I find the willingness to do this by contemplating
the lessons learned from past suffering - lessons which have led to
the blessings I now enjoy. I can remember, if I insist, how the
agonies of alcoholism, the pain of rebellion and thwarted pride, have
often led me to God's grace, and so to a new freedom. So, as I walk
along, I repeat still other phrases such as these, "Pain is the
touchstone of progress" . . . "Fear no evil". . . "This, too, will
pass" . . . "This experience can be turned to benefit."
These fragments of prayer bring far more than mere comfort. They keep
me on the track of right acceptance; they break up my compulsive
themes of guilt, depression, rebellion, and pride; and sometimes they
endow me with the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom
to know the diff erence.
To those who never have given these potent exercises in acceptance a
real workout, I recommend them highly the next time the heat is on.
Or, for that matter, at any time!