The Joyous Liberation of Radical Acceptance

Posted on September 9, 2023 by Catherine Cheng, MD

Happy Happy 50th Birthday to me!

I’ve been 50 for over two weeks now and could not be happier about it! Do I obsess about my age? Maybe. But whatever, I’m having a great time and it’s all because I’ve lived long enough to acquire some wisdom, and may yet live a while longer to exercise it all. What a privilege and a joy.
Middle age. Awesome.
I’m like a vintage car now. If I wanna keep driving smoothly, I’ gotta invest in the maintenance. My value continues to grow, and I can revel in some positive attention I get for being my real, colorful, sparkly, strong, BOOBS OUT, middle aged self.

Why is aging so difficult to accept? Why do we resist so fiercely?

Maybe we equate acceptance with resignation? Is it a conventional fallacy, like if we admit that we are ‘old’ then by definition we are decrepit and obsolete, that only young people have value in and contribute to society?

Maybe it’s how we define ‘old’? Is 50 old? Is 30? 80? Is it a number, a mindset, a set of abilities? Does it matter?

Patients often ask me what they should expect to be able to do and not–usually physical things–based on their age. It’s impossible to answer, as each person is unique; and it’s not just about chronological age. It’s about what’s worth doing for each of us. What are your goals, how important are they to you, and what trade-offs are you willing and not willing to make to achieve them? What factors would alter these calculations? What are you willing to risk? What will you regret if you don’t get what you want, or hurt yourself (and/or others) in the pursuit?

What do you need to get to peace with your age, and the state of your body, mind, relationships, and life expectancy? Where can/do you still act with energy and power, despite new and cumulative constraints? What’s great about the now, and how can you maximize that, amplify and spread it?

Resist. Deny. Reject. Oppose. Deflect. Energy spent on these diversions is counterproductive, wasted. It keeps us tethered to exactly the thing we refuse to acknowledge. Opposition and denial are unidimensional and static. When I fight against an unwanted reality, it’s all I see, my sole focus–even as I actively deny it–how hilariously and tragically ironic. I show up tense, defensive, in fight or flight survival mode–often without knowing, or in metadenial–denial of my denial. I get nowhere and I’m all uhnappy about it. We are funny, we humans.

When I accept the thing, I can put it down, let it be. Even if I disagree with and dislike it, even if it causes me pain. Unburdened from carrying it (even as I deny carrying it), I can loosen my neck and shoulders, look up, breathe deeply and ask, “Okay, what now? What next?”
And here is where the magic happens.

Acceptance is dynamic. It liberates. When I stop denying, rejecting, and opposing, then I’m free to question, explore, discover, choose, invent, experiment, connect, and move.
Acceptance is the birthplace of possibility.

Anger, jealousy, self-loathing, grief, sadness, conflict, uncertainty, other people’s inexplicable behavior, your aging body: Allow it. Embrace it all. Hold it lightly and loosely or put it down, or just nod respectfully and leave it. We can choose this: to suffer less by simply accepting first. We get to decide then, consciously, what orientation to any reality is most consistent with our values, goals, joy, fulfillment, and peace. We do this by seeking the best questions instead of the usual ones. Make them open ended and relevant to you, now, here, as well as to your future best self. Talk things through with people who love you for who you are, who don’t judge, who accept you, whom you trust, and who will also hold you accountable.
Self-acceptance is fundamental and essential for a life of peace, and no less vital are true belonging and deep, honest communion with others.

OH I finally get it, I think! For so many years I have grappled with this paradoxical and counterintuitive idea that acceptance is the foundation of peace and change, and today I think I reached a new overlook on the climb. Acceptance is not resignation or wallowing; it is not tacit endorsement of what I don’t want. It is simply being with what is, including how I feel about, dispelling my self-delusions about the current reality. It is also understanding that that reality can and likely will change, and though I may not have control, I have agency: I can absolutely influence the direction of that change. And I don’t have to be grumpy and adversarial while I act–I can choose to do it all joyfully. How exciting! I am ready, let me at it!

Silly Dopey Giddy Mountain Driving

Posted on August 24, 2023 by Catherine Cheng, MD

I’m not drunk, I promise–not on alcohol, anyway–just sheer joy.

“Accelerate through the turn.”

Hugh the genius British boy and I stood chatting in the Brain Bowl teacher’s little office just off the high school library. Looking back, Hugh knew more about physics then, as a 15 year-old, than most of us will know in our lifetimes. But he did not yet know how to drive. He asserted that while driving, one should be able to accelerate through a turn and not have to slow down. I remember this conversation so clearly because it demonstrated to me how for some things (so many, I know now), we just cannot truly know until we do.

Fast forward to my college years. One spring weekend my friends and I had nothing better to do, so we stood in line outside the parking lot at Dyche Stadium, where Ford Motor Company had set up a driving course. We three piled into a bronze sedan with helmets and an instructor, and took turns maneuvering the car through various straights and curves marked with orange cones (think Mythbusters, but without the explosions). My trial was significantly slower, ‘conservative,’ according to the instuctor (stated with a hint of disappointment?), compared to my friends’. I wished for a second chance, for no other reason than to practice again ‘accelerating through the turn.’ Before we started, the one thing I remember hearing was that you can press the gas after you feel the weight transfer. EUREKA! Decelerate on the approach, and when you feel pressure shift to the outside butt cheek, you can gun it! Hugh was right. Centrifugal force and body awareness at work!

Ever since then I have loved driving winding, curvy, hairpin turns. I’m convinced that I’m also a more fuel efficient driver, because I only brake as much as I need to not skid, then speed up more easily from a higher RPM, minimizing momentum loss. I had figured out on my own how to hug the tangent of the inside curve, which allows me to hold the steering wheel smooth and steady throughout a turn, rather than overturning and having to correct over and over. On every bend, I blissfully chase that perfect energy and arc conservation!

Up here in the Rocky Mountains, it’s Hairpin Heaven. And there are bonuses, too: sparse traffic, and friendly drivers who wave! Motoring all through Summit County today, listening to my favorite music, I wore the silliest, dopeyest, most giddy smile–my facial muscles almost cramped, it was so constant–I just could not help myself. I waved at construction workers, pedestrians, other drivers, and they all waved back (except for the young man who did not let me merge–he avoided eye contact–must not be from around here).

It’s my happiest place on earth. I relish every moment–it’s the only place where I’m excited to get up early in the morning, just to spend more waking hours here! So I just had to write about it, document the joy. I sincerely hope you all may enjoy this kind of deep delight wherever you are today!

Dillon Reservoir, from Old Dillon Reservoir Trail

Dillon Reservoir, from Meadow Loop and Ridge Trail

Revel Now to Fuel Your Future

Posted on August 22, 2023 by Catherine Cheng, MD

Photo by Brian Gelbach, Minnesota, August 2023

When you get a head cold, do you ever wish you had appreciated better when you could breathe through your nose?

What do you take for granted, that you’d miss and regret if it disappeared?

Our family had quite a rough patch from about 2018-2022, and this past year things really turned around. I still have a little post-stress reactivity (a second of dread whenever I get a text or call from the kids), but it’s much better.

Then last week I had another scare, an x-ray showing what looked like a hole in bone—a lucency, as it’s called. Despite opposite effort, I allowed myself to catastrophize. Osteosarcoma, I thought—an uncommon and aggressive bone cancer (it would not actually present this way, I realize now, but hey, I was hijacked). The thought cascade unfolded rapidly: urgent specialist referral and imaging, surgical biopsy, treatment—surgery, radiation, chemotherapy. Recurring appointments, treatment side effects, and physical, psychological, and relational pain. I’d have to cancel my vacation this week, find coverage at work (or take a leave again), maybe stop working on the book, and, gasp, stop going to the gym. Kids’ activities and future would be affected—would they have to move/stay close to home for college? And the absolute worst-case scenario—death—what would that be like? Interestingly, this semi-unintentional exercise actually helped me calm down. It reminded me of when Daughter had an anaphylactic food reaction with the babysitter. I had to meet them at the Emergency Department without killing myself in a car accident on the way, so to center myself I imagined the worst—her death. In a moment I realized that though it would be horrible, I would be okay—because I had to, for Son. I breathed deeply, drove mindfully, and arrived physically and psychologically intact. We simply do what we must do.

I have faced multiple life-threatening situations at home, in addition to witnessing all manner of death in my work. Maybe that’s how I can balance my emotional reactions with a more rational response? I have seen enough times how good can turn to bad on a dime, and it makes me cherish the good while it lasts—really revel in it.

Before I got confirmation that the x-ray last week was, in fact, normal, I had already come to a sense of peace about whatever may come. I thought to myself, ‘Well, good thing I really soaked up everything awesome about life until now, saturated myself with it and shared the joy as much as I could.’ I found myself with very few regrets, which empowered me to meet uncertainty with calm, confidence, and strength, and not denial or false optimism.

It’s not that I dread the future, expect serial crises, or harbor some kind of victim mentality. I just understand the unpredictable randomness of life and accept my total lack of control in most situations. Reveling in the good now protects me when any hard times do come later. I feel deep satisfaction and contentment to remember all that was good before, and that I knew it at the time, truly appreciated it. That warm, radiant energy feels stored like solid rocket fuel, stable and dense, ready to call forth for emotional and relational thrust when I need it.

What can you revel in now, that will replenish your existential fuel for the unknown future?

Below are some of my current revels. May you, readers and friends, feel your own daily delights emerge with light and coherence in these waning days of summer. May you immerse in the awesomeness and feel it buoy you through whatever life brings.

Shaneiaks meet in person!