Acceptance, Cilantro and Correcting Mistakes
Or, maybe it’s okay to let yourself be human
Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash
My handsome husband has impeccable taste in wives, but horrible taste in other things.
Take cilantro, for example. Sam HATES it.
Which is ridiculous. Cilantro is delicious. I want heaps and heaps of it on my dishes. An overflowing mountain of the yummy herb.
Clearly an example of Sam’s poor taste, right?
Oh wait…
There’s that thing. You know what I’m talking about. Where for some of us, cilantro is delicious but, for others of us, it tastes like soap.
Sam’s in the “this tastes like soap” camp, while I’m in the “more please” camp.
So I guess it’s not really fair of me to say that he has horrible tastes as a result. After all, I wouldn’t want to pile up my plate with soap shavings, would you?
Simple. Easy to understand. A no-brainer.
I’m musing this difference in opinions because I’ve found myself at a retreat that I hate almost as much as Sam hates cilantro.
Oddly, this retreat is world-famous. People I respect and admire have studied under this teacher and credit him with great wisdom.
And, without a doubt, this teacher has great wisdom. He has mastered his topic.
But his teaching style? It just doesn’t work for me.
Part of me feels guilty about this. “What a rookie mistake,” I’ve thought as I’ve sat through lectures, wondering how four hours can feel like 27. “Why didn’t I watch more of his videos before I came here? Why didn’t I check to see if he was the right teacher for me?”
Instead I just saw the offering, thought, “Oooh he’s highly regarded, I’m interested in the topic and the timing works – I’m in!”
Oh, the ol’ Sagittarius nature. Leaping before we look.
But here’s the thing: in this gentle, compassionate, enchanted way of living that I’m trying to embody, there’s no space for beating myself up. There’s also no space for gritting my teeth and soldiering on.
I made a mistake and sometimes humans do that. I absolutely would have been better served by diving deeper before I signed up and I’ve learned from that.
But, the same way that I would never force Sam to choke down a plateful of cilantro, I see no reason to force myself to sit through lectures that make me want to crawl out of my skin.
So I’m adapting my retreat.
Right now, I’m sitting in my room writing instead of doing Qigong with the rest of the group. I love Qigong, but not the way it’s taught here.
At 10:00, I’ll go to the planned activity. I’ll go to the one at 11:00 too.
I’ll eat my meals with the group, because they’re fascinating individuals. But the rest of the time, I’ll do what feels right.
I can’t feel the way I want to feel and embody the message I want to share if I sit around punishing myself. I made a mistake. Fortunately, it was a relatively small one. I have options. And I’m choosing those options.
Sam doesn’t have bad taste because he doesn’t like cilantro. He has personal preferences.
I don’t have bad taste because I don’t like this retreat. I have personal preferences.
And, just like most of my “here’s what’s going on in my life” stories, I think this is probably broadly applicable. If I had to guess, I’d wager that there’s some area of your life where you feel guilty about not liking something. Maybe you even force yourself to grit your teeth and soldier on.
Maybe it’s how your friends choose to celebrate your birthday–it’s kind, but not for you. Maybe it’s a specific touch from your partner–loving, but doesn’t feel great to you. Maybe it’s something as simple as outgrowing a devotion to Dairy Queen Blizzards.
It doesn’t really matter what it is. I’m in a chapter of life where I’m trying to learn how to say, “Eh, not for me.” Without shame. With guilt. Without self-judgment or downward spirals. Just a simple shrug, then moving on.
Acceptance. Accepting both the things that ARE for me, as well as the things that are NOT.
And how wonderful for the Universe to have sent me an opportunity to practice.
Wishing you a day filled with food that doesn’t taste like soap and the chance to honor your preferences,
