staying or walking away

The word accept terrifies people because it comes attached with the idea that it means to lower your standards and submit to something that isn't good enough, whether it be in ourselves or somebody else. 

What is the opposite of the word accept? I'd go ahead and call it rejection. 

What does it mean to reject? I'd say it means to cast out, to throw away, to declare unfit. To reject means to turn your back on. To walk away. 

Opposite words usually have opposite definitions. If to reject is to walk away, then what would it mean to accept? 

To stay. 

I guess it turns out that what we're really fearing is what our act of staying really says about us: that our standards aren't good enough, that we're settling for less than the best, that we don't have what it takes to be who we ought to be, that we have no pride if we can accept somebody who isn't measuring up to the ruler we're holding against them. 

As soon as we submit to this act of staying, we fear it saying that we didn't have it in us to make it to where we should've been. 

As soon as we commit to staying, we concede defeat: now we will never reach the standard, never be who we ought to be. 

My experience of shame comes out of not being the person I strive to be. I attempt to white-wash over reality by denying what is true about myself. 

And I know, I know what you're thinking -- this is the only way to overcome the things that aren't good enough. By proving that they aren't there. 

But I am a quiet person. And wishing to deny this and be different from this only keeps me from drawing the beauty out of this quality. It is not wrong to be a quiet person -- but I've always thought it was.
Sometimes I am quiet because I am being self-conscious -- thinking about myself. I am aware of this now. And when I find myself being detached from a conversation because I am wrapped up in thoughts of myself, I have discovered the wonder of realising that this moment is not about me -- this about the person I am with. Whilst I don't suddenly turn into a bright, bubbly person and the life of the party, I become a person who is able to see the person in front of me as a glorious creation and truly appreciate who they are, their presence -- and find myself with things to say and questions to ask because I am truly in awe at who they are and their existence on this earth. 

However, if I had stopped at the point of thinking, being quiet is bad, I have to be talkative, my thoughts, motives and intentions would be entirely based on self, on being a better version of me, of attempting to surpass myself -- and I would have missed the human beside me entirely. I would have missed Jesus entirely. 

Think of an aspect of yourself that you struggle with. Something that for whatever reason you believe ought not to be how it is. Maybe a word you use to define yourself, a belief that you have about yourself, a standard you hold yourself to (and seem unable to reach). At its core, acceptance isn't about what we do but who we are. 

Now -- why do you struggle with this aspect of yourself? And because you struggle with it, what do you do with its existence? 

Do you attempt to overcome it? How have you attempted to overcome it? 
Do you attempt to deny it? Has this been successful, or made its existence more prominent in your mind? 
Do you experience shame? Anger? Fear?, toward this aspect of yourself? Why? Does this specific response make you happier? Stronger? Kinder toward others and yourself? 

Let's return to our definitions. 

To reject -- to walk away. 
To accept -- to stay with. 

We're attempting to walk away from ourselves and each other where we don't measure up. We're abandoning our selves and each other out of fear that to stay is to give up. 

But this is where we've got it all upside down. What situation has there ever been that to stay means to give up -- and to walk away means to keep trying? 

Maybe, in the end, our denying and attempting to overcome and prove ourselves has always been a rejection of ourselves, a giving up of ourselves, a refusal of ourselves. 

In the end, maybe the bravest thing there is... is to stay with ourselves, to stay with each other. You and me both know it's the bravest. 

But what're we gonna do? What choice to we have? Walk away from ourselves -- or stay? 

There's holiness in this risk. In this act of staying, this act of acceptance. It's not a giving up -- it's a surrender. 

And if I accept myself fully in the right way, I will already have surpassed myself. 

Oh, the wonder. 

Ponder, 
whisper your fear, 
and know that you are loved.