Like I shared in my last post, this might just be the rock bottom of my life.
I feel like I’m being stretched to the thinnest thread—tested in every way possible.
There are too many reasons to give up…
Too many days when I just want to curl up and not face it all: the financial pressure, the loneliness of being a foreigner, the exhaustion of being a mother carrying it all with little to no help, the silent pain of being in a relationship where I no longer feel heard or seen.
I wake up some mornings feeling like I’m holding my breath just to survive another day.
But you know what?
There’s something in me that refuses to let go.
Something deeper.
A quiet voice.
A flicker of light.
A whisper that says,
“This will pass. You will get through this. One day, all of this will make sense.”
And that—that—is where acceptance entered my life.
Not as surrender, but as a sacred doorway to healing.

And through the wisdom of the book “Acceptance” by Padraig O’Morain, I’ve begun to see that maybe I don’t have to wait for life to get better before I start living again.
Maybe I can begin by accepting what is, and let my strength grow from there.
Chapter 1: What Is Acceptance and How Will It Enhance Our Life?
Acceptance doesn’t mean you agree with the pain or that you give up on change.
It simply means you stop fighting what’s already here.
You stop saying, “This shouldn’t be happening,”
And start saying, “This is happening—and I can find my way through it.”
When I let myself accept the mess, the pain, the grief, and the struggle, something changed.
Not outside me—but within me.
I found stillness. I found breath. I found clarity.
And eventually, I found the courage to take small steps again.
Buddhist Wisdom: Accepting Life’s Difficulties
Buddhism teaches us a gentle, yet profound truth:
“Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.”
This teaching isn’t about ignoring hardship—it’s about learning how to stop fighting against reality.
The Buddha spoke of dukkha, the natural suffering of life.
Whether it’s loneliness, loss, or disappointment, none of us escapes it.
But when we try to avoid, deny, or control these painful experiences, we create even deeper suffering.
That’s where acceptance becomes liberation.
As Padraig echoes in the book:
“We waste so much energy resisting what already is.”
Acceptance allows us to say, “Yes, this is happening. Yes, it hurts. But I don’t have to hate myself for it.”
Rumination and Overthinking: The Inner Storm
I’ll be honest. My mind used to be like a battlefield.
At night, especially when everything was quiet, I’d replay painful memories on a loop.
The betrayals. The regrets. The “what ifs.”
I would spiral into rumination, hoping to “solve” the pain by overthinking it.
But it only made me more exhausted… and more broken.
Padraig offers this gentle reminder:
“Acceptance helps us stop wrestling with our thoughts and instead allows them to pass through.”
That doesn’t mean the thoughts disappear.
But now, when they come, I tell myself:
“Thoughts are not threats. They are just visitors.”
And just like the wind, they come and go.
The Process of Acceptance: A Journey, Not a Destination
Here’s what I’ve learned:
Acceptance is not a switch you flip.
It’s a process. A daily choice.
Sometimes, it looks like:
- Sitting with tears without forcing them to stop
- Breathing deeply when anxiety rises
- Saying “This hurts” instead of “Why can’t I handle this better?”
It’s not passive—it’s powerful.
Padraig says acceptance is like standing on the shore and letting the waves come, without needing to stop them, or be swept away by them.
Some days, I still resist.
But most days now, I remember to soften.
Chapter 2: Acceptance and Our Relationship with Anxiety
“Anxiety is not a personal failure. It is a signal, not a sentence.” — Padraig O’Morain
There were days in my life here when I felt like I was carrying the weight of the entire world on my chest.
Bills are piling up.
Children need me to smile.
Dreams of a better life are floating further away.
And yet—I still had to show up. Speak in a language I was still learning. Stand in places where I felt invisible. Pretend I wasn’t falling apart inside.
Sometimes, I would ask myself:
“Is this anxiety ever going to go away? Will I ever feel safe again?”
The Truth About Anxiety — And What Acceptance Teaches
In Acceptance, Padraig O’Morain gently reminds us:
“Anxiety is part of the human experience. It doesn’t mean something is wrong with you—it means you are alive.”
For so long, I treated my anxiety like a monster that had to be defeated.
I’d get upset with myself for overthinking, for panicking, for crying in the bathroom when no one could see. I thought it made me weak. A failure. A bad mother.
But acceptance taught me something revolutionary:
I don’t have to fight my anxiety to move forward. I only need to make peace with it.
When we accept our anxious thoughts and feelings without judgment, they begin to loosen their grip on us. We stop feeding the fear with more fear.
Padraig says that the act of saying to yourself, “This is anxiety, and I can let it be here without letting it rule me,” is one of the kindest things you can do for your mental well-being.
From Panic to Presence: My Personal Struggle with Anxiety in Japan
There was one night I’ll never forget.
The rice cooker had finished its cycle, but I had no appetite. I stared at the quiet in my living room as my daughters giggled softly in the other room, unaware of the weight pressing on my chest. I had just checked my bank account—barely ¥1,800 left. The bills were piled up beside a letter I couldn’t bring myself to open. Another loan. Another reminder of everything I didn’t ask for, but had to carry. I wanted to scream, but I didn’t. I just sat there, silently crying, silently asking, ‘How did I get here?’
And all I could think was:
“I don’t know how much more I can take.”
But I took one breath.
Then another.
And I remembered something I had read that morning from Acceptance:
“You don’t have to feel OK to do the next thing. You just need to let the feeling be what it is—and take one small step anyway.”
So I stood up. Washed my face. Sat down again. And wrote my feelings down instead of stuffing them deep inside.
That was the first night I truly practiced acceptance in the middle of anxiety.
Not by trying to silence it, but by making space for it.
Anxiety and the Thinking Mind
Padraig describes anxiety as something fueled by the thinking mind—the inner voice that constantly warns, worries, compares, and catastrophizes.
It tells us:
- “You’re not doing enough.”
- “Everything’s going to fall apart.”
- “You’ll never get out of this.”
But here’s the truth he offers:
The mind creates stories. Acceptance allows us to recognize that they are stories, not facts.
That shift changes everything.
When I feel anxiety building now, I try to catch my thoughts and say:
“This is just a story my mind is telling me. I don’t have to believe everything it says.”
That sentence has saved me more times than I can count.
Action Through Acceptance
One powerful insight from the book is this:
“You can feel anxious and still act. You can be afraid and still move forward.”
And that’s what I’m doing.
Even when my knees are shaking inside, I’m building this blog.
Even when I doubt myself, I keep sharing my story.
Even when the road ahead feels unclear, I write—because something in me still believes that this life can be beautiful even in the mess.
Acceptance doesn’t mean we enjoy anxiety. It means we stop blaming ourselves for having it.
It means we treat ourselves with kindness and say:
“I see you. I know this is hard. But we’re not giving up.”
Anxiety Does Not Get the Final Word
If you are walking through your own storm right now—struggling to breathe under the weight of your worries—I want you to remember this:
You are not alone.
You are not broken.
You are not failing.
You are simply being human, in a world that’s not always gentle.
And that deserves more compassion, not more criticism.
Let your anxiety sit beside you—but don’t let it speak louder than your hope.
Let it be part of your story—but not the whole story.
Because even with anxiety…
You can still choose joy.
You can still show up.
You can still build a life that makes your heart proud.
And I’m walking that road with you.
Chapter 3: Accepting Uncertainty
“You don’t need certainty to move forward—you need willingness.” — Padraig O’Morain
There’s a silence that follows when you’ve cried all your tears…
A silence that comes after you’ve done everything you could, and still have no idea how things will turn out.
For me, uncertainty wasn’t just a season.
It became a daily reality.
Would we have enough to make it through the month?
Would I finally find a way to build a future for my daughters and me?
Would I be able to heal from everything that broke me?
I didn’t know.
But Padraig’s words held me through that fog:
“To live is to walk into the unknown again and again. But with acceptance, we learn to soften around the uncertainty instead of being crushed by it.”
The Anxiety of Not Knowing
Uncertainty is uncomfortable because our minds crave control. We want answers. Timelines. Guarantees.
And when life doesn’t give them to us?
We spiral. We overthink. We panic.
Padraig explains that our intolerance for uncertainty often fuels anxiety, worry, and even self-sabotage. We try to escape the discomfort by making impulsive choices or blaming ourselves for things we can’t fix.
I remember feeling so ashamed that I didn’t know what tomorrow would look like—like I had failed because I wasn’t “stable” or “secure.” But the truth is…
Not knowing doesn’t mean you’re lost. It means you’re still in motion.
And acceptance invites us to breathe inside that unknown.
Letting Go of the Illusion of Control
As a mother raising kids in a foreign land, I’ve learned this lesson the hard way:
You can do everything right, and life can still fall apart.
But Padraig writes, beautifully and gently:
“Control is not peace. Certainty is not happiness. When we stop chasing the illusion of control, we begin to feel more grounded in the present.”
Acceptance helped me release my white-knuckled grip on needing to “figure it all out.”
Now, when I feel overwhelmed by uncertainty, I pause and ask myself:
“What part of this can I gently allow? What part can I trust?”
Even if I can’t see the whole road ahead, I trust the next step will appear when it’s time.
Embracing the Mystery of Becoming
There’s something sacred about not knowing.
As Padraig points out, uncertainty is also the space where hope lives.
It’s the womb of transformation. The cocoon before the butterfly.
If someone had told me that this dark chapter of my life would also be the one where I’d discover my voice, my purpose, and my strength—I wouldn’t have believed them.
But here I am. Writing these words.
Still standing. Still dreaming.
The unknown is not always dangerous. Sometimes, it’s a possibility in disguise.
My Story: A Foreign Mother in the Fog
One of the hardest moments I faced was when I realized no one was coming to save me—not my husband, not the people I thought I could count on.
And I didn’t know how I was going to raise my children alone in Japan.
The fear of the future was like a storm cloud that followed me everywhere.
But I made a decision—not to have it all figured out, but to walk anyway.
I stopped waiting for certainty before I started building.
I started this blog not knowing who would read it, if it would succeed, or if I had what it takes.
But I did it anyway.
Because deep inside me, I knew:
“This might be uncertain, but I am not powerless.”
Finding Peace in the Not-Knowing
If you’re staring into the unknown right now, I want you to know…
You are still worthy, even if you’re unsure.
You are still growing, even when the outcome is unclear.
You are still safe, even if everything feels shaky.
Let go of the need to have it all mapped out.
Accept the uncertainty—not because it’s easy, but because resisting it only drains you.
Let it be what it is.
Let yourself breathe in the fog.
And trust: Clarity will come.
Light will break through.
The next step will appear.
You are not lost, my friend.
You are unfolding.
Chapter 4: Acceptance and Relationships
“Acceptance doesn’t mean tolerating mistreatment—it means seeing clearly, and choosing peace over illusion.” — Padraig O’Morain
No one tells you how hard it is to carry the weight of a relationship that’s supposed to hold you, but instead keeps letting you fall.
No one prepares you for the ache of loving someone who does not protect you…
For the loneliness of being married, but still feeling so alone.
For the confusion of holding on—and the heartbreak of letting go.
This chapter from Acceptance reaches into the rawest corners of love, disappointment, and self-worth. And it gently teaches us this:
Acceptance in relationships is not about giving up. It’s about waking up.
To the truth.
To what is.
To what we need and deserve, even if that truth breaks our heart.
Facing the Truth of the Relationship
Padraig explains that many of us stay in pain longer than we need to, not because we’re weak, but because we hope. We hope people will change. We hope our love will be enough. We hope that if we try harder, we’ll finally be seen, heard,and chosen.
But acceptance helps us take off the blindfold.
It doesn’t mean we stop caring. It means we start seeing clearly:
- Is this relationship safe?
- Is it respectful?
- Is it honest?
- Does it allow me to grow—or does it keep me small?
When I finally accepted that my marriage was filled with emotional neglect, financial betrayal, and emotional absence, it broke something in me—but it also began to rebuild something stronger.
For the first time, I told myself:
💔 “This is not love. This is survival.”
The Cycle of Hoping, Hurting, and Hiding
For years, I kept trying to fix everything—to be more patient, more silent, more understanding.
I told myself, “Maybe if I don’t complain… Maybe if I give more… Maybe if I stay quiet…”
But the pain only grew. The credit card debt grew. The loneliness grew.
And the woman I once was? She faded more and more each day.
Padraig writes that we often confuse acceptance with endurance. But they are not the same.
Endurance keeps us stuck.
Acceptance sets us free.
What Acceptance Gave Me
When I stopped begging for change and started building boundaries, something powerful happened.
I started reclaiming myself.
I stopped needing permission to be happy.
I chose my peace over his comfort.
I decided that being alone would be better than being unloved.
Acceptance taught me that:
“I am allowed to choose what brings me peace—even if it means walking away from what once felt like home.”
Acceptance Isn’t Resignation—It’s Liberation
Padraig makes a profound point in this chapter:
“To accept the truth of a relationship is not to resign yourself to suffering. It is to stop living in denial.”
That truth shattered me—but it also saved me.
Because I realized:
- I am not responsible for someone else’s healing.
- I cannot force love to grow where it refuses to be planted.
- And I am not here to carry the emotional weight of a man who won’t lift his own.
The day I accepted that my worth isn’t dependent on someone’s ability to see it—was the day I began to heal.
My Story: A Woman, A Mother, and the Moment I Chose Myself
I remember sitting on the mat floor, tears falling on my daughter’s blanket. They were playing nearby, unaware of the war inside me.
And I thought:
“What am I showing them about love? About being a woman? About what we deserve?”
That moment shook me.
Because I didn’t want them to grow up thinking that love meant suffering. That silence was strength. That their dreams should be buried beneath someone else’s chaos.
So I made a vow:
🌸 I will show them what a strong woman looks like—not one who stays silent, but one who rises.
🌸 I will show them that peace is their birthright, not something they had to beg for.
🌸 I will become the woman I want them to become.
That was the first brick in the foundation of this new life I’m building.
Loving Others Without Losing Yourself
Dear reader, if you are stuck in a relationship where you feel small, dismissed, or unseen, this chapter is for you.
You are not unlovable.
You are not overreacting.
You are not weak for wanting more.
You are awakening.
And that awakening will feel like grief before it feels like peace.
But please, hold on.
Hold on through the tears.
Hold on through the breaking.
Because on the other side of acceptance is a kind of freedom that will make you weep.
You deserve love that doesn’t hurt.
Respect that doesn’t fade.
A home where you can breathe, not tiptoe.
Let this be the chapter where you choose You.
Chapter 5: Accepting Our Bodies, Sexuality, and Gender
“We carry so much shame about who we are. Acceptance is the gentle act of returning home to ourselves.” — Padraig O’Morain
We live in a world that tries to tell us what beauty should look like…
What love should feel like…
What “normal” means—and who belongs in it.
But here’s the truth that many of us never heard growing up:
Your body is not a problem to be fixed.
Your identity is not a burden to be hidden.
Your truth is not too much.
Body Acceptance: This Is the Body That Carried Me
As a woman, as a foreigner in Japan, and especially as a mother, I’ve had so many moments of feeling like I’m “not enough.”
Not slim enough.
Not elegant enough.
Not quiet enough.
Not Japanese enough.
Not woman enough.
But Padraig reminds us that our bodies are not mistakes—they are living evidence of survival.
They’ve carried us through heartbreak, birth, exhaustion, trauma, and daily miracles.
I used to look at myself in the mirror and pick apart every flaw.
But now? I look and think…
“This is the body that carried my children.
This is the body that stood alone in a foreign country.
This is the body that never gave up—no matter what it faced.”
That is something worth loving.
Acceptance of Sexuality and Gender: Permission to Be Ourselves
Padraig shares something so profound in this chapter:
“For many, accepting their sexuality or gender is not just personal—it’s survival.”
Even if I didn’t grow up questioning my gender or sexuality, I have so many people in my life who have.
And as a mother, I’ve learned this:
The greatest gift we can give our children is to teach them that they are allowed to be exactly who they are, without shame, without fear, without having to shrink themselves.
Whether you are cisgender, LGBTQ+, or still figuring it out…
We all deserve one sacred thing:
To feel safe in our own skin.
My Story: Belonging in a Country That Sees You as “Different”
Living in Japan as a foreigner comes with invisible pressure.
You’re different.
You stand out.
You often feel judged by standards that were never built for you.
Sometimes I’d walk into spaces and feel eyes scanning me—my skin, my hair, my kids, my clothes, even my marriage. And I’d shrink a little… wishing I could just disappear or somehow “fit in.”
But Padraig’s writing reminded me that the point of life isn’t to fit in. It’s to come home to ourselves.
So now, I walk into those spaces with a little more love for myself.
I wear my motherhood with pride.
I wear my identity without apology.
And slowly, I’ve stopped needing the world’s approval—because I’ve finally started giving it to myself.
Acceptance as a Daily Practice
Acceptance is not something you arrive at once—it’s something you return to every single day.
There are still days I feel insecure. Still moments I question if I’m too loud, too soft, too “foreign,” too imperfect. But now, I pause and ask:
What if I could let myself be loved—even here?
What if I could choose softness instead of shame?
Padraig gently encourages us:
“The parts of you that you hide in shame might be the very parts someone else sees as beautiful. Let them live.”
You Are Not a Mistake. You Are a Masterpiece.
Dear reader, this is your reminder:
Your body is worthy.
Your identity is sacred.
Your truth is valid.
Your difference is not your weakness—it is your wonder.
Whether you’re living abroad or growing into who you really are…
Whether you’re healing from judgment or learning to see yourself clearly for the first time…
You are not too much.
You are not broken.
You are not alone.
Let go of the lies that told you otherwise.
Let go of the shame that kept you silent.
And step forward—in your own body, your own truth, your own becoming.
You belong.
You always have.
Chapter 6: Acceptance in Conflict
“The opposite of peace is not conflict—it’s denial.” — Padraig O’Morain
No matter how hard we try to avoid it, conflict finds us.
In our homes.
In our marriages.
In parenting.
In foreign lands where we are misunderstood.
Even in the battles inside our own minds.
But here’s what Acceptance taught me:
Conflict isn’t the enemy. Unaccepted pain is.
When we don’t accept the truth of our anger, our fear, or our disappointment, we bury it. But buried emotions don’t disappear—they detonate, often in the moments we most wish to be calm.
This chapter helped me understand one of the deepest truths of emotional maturity:
Acceptance is not surrendering to chaos. It’s choosing peace in the middle of it.
Conflict with Others: The Need to Be Heard
Padraig beautifully explains that conflict often arises when our need for understanding isn’t met.
When you feel unseen, unvalued, and disrespected, you fight to be heard. Sometimes with words. Sometimes with silence.
In my marriage, conflict came like waves. One moment we were pretending things were okay, the next I was breaking under the pressure of being everything, doing everything, fixing everything alone.
I didn’t want to fight.
I just wanted to be seen.
To be helped.
To be chosen.
To feel like I was carrying our family on my back while he was burying us in debt and detachment.
But I learned something through acceptance:
“You don’t have to prove the truth to someone who refuses to see it. You just have to stop pretending it’s not there.”
That shift saved my spirit.
I stopped shouting.
I started listening to my own needs.
I started setting boundaries, not to punish, but to protect my peace.
Conflict Within Ourselves: The Inner War
There were days I felt ashamed for even wanting more.
But Padraig reminds us:
“Self-acceptance during conflict means acknowledging your feelings without judgment. You can feel hurt and still act with clarity.”
This truth allowed me to sit with my rage without drowning in it.
To feel my heartbreak without guilt.
To admit: Yes, I am tired. And yes, I am still worthy of joy.
I didn’t have to deny my pain.
I had to accept it—and let it guide me, not control me.
Acceptance Doesn’t Mean You Stay Silent
Let me be very clear:
Acceptance is not weakness.
It is not allowing abuse.
It is not pretending everything’s fine.
Acceptance in conflict is saying:
“This is what’s happening.
I may not like it, but I see it clearly.
And I will choose my response with love, not fear.”
That’s the kind of power no screaming match can win.
That’s the kind of peace no one can take away from you.
A Turning Point in My Life
I’ll never forget the night I sat in the kitchen, crying quietly while my kids slept. I had just found out my husband had maxed out another credit card under my name.
I felt betrayed. Exhausted. Furious.
And then I remembered a line from Acceptance:
“Acceptance is seeing things as they are, not as you wish they were.”
I whispered to myself:
💔 “This is not the life I wanted.
But this is the truth.
And I will face it with open eyes and a strong heart.”
That night, I didn’t scream.
I didn’t beg.
I started planning.
Not revenge.
Not escape.
But a future where I could breathe.
A future where I could raise my daughters in peace.
A future built on truth, not illusions.
Action Steps: How to Practice Acceptance in Conflict
Here are simple yet powerful steps Padraig shares—and how I live them:
- Pause before reacting.
→ When I’m triggered, I stop and ask: What’s really hurting me? - Name the emotion.
→ I feel hurt. I feel disrespected. I feel afraid. This helps me separate the feeling from the person. - Decide, not react.
→ Instead of exploding, I say: What response would honor my peace right now? - Let go of winning.
→ I remind myself: I don’t need to win this fight. I just need to honor my truth. - Return to love.
→ Even if it’s just love for yourself, let that be your anchor.
Let Conflict Become Your Teacher
Dear reader, if you’re walking through conflict right now—within yourself or with someone else—I want to tell you this:
You don’t have to have all the answers.
You don’t have to fix everything overnight.
You don’t even have to feel strong today.
But you can begin by accepting what is…
And that first breath of truth will start to clear the fog.
You were not made to live on a battlefield forever.
So today, choose peace, not silence, but real, powerful peace.
Choose truth, not to destroy, but to heal.
Choose yourself, not in selfishness, but in sacredness.
You are worthy of calm.
You are worthy of clarity.
You are worthy of a life where love doesn’t have to hurt.
Chapter 7: The Acceptance Dynamic
“Acceptance doesn’t mean settling. It means stepping into life with clarity, compassion, and courage.” – Padraig O’Morain
There’s a sacred shift that happens when you stop fighting your reality and start working with it instead.
That shift… is what Padraig calls The Acceptance Dynamic.
And I can tell you from my own life: it changes everything.
What Is the Acceptance Dynamic?
At its core, the Acceptance Dynamic is about changing your relationship with the things you cannot control.
Instead of denial or resistance, you allow yourself to say:
“This is what’s happening. I may not like it. I may not deserve it. But I accept that this is where I am—and now I choose what to do from here.”
It’s a mental shift from reactive suffering to responsive awareness.
Instead of spiraling into frustration, bitterness, or hopelessness, you stand in a quiet, grounded place within yourself and say:
“I see it. I accept it. I move with grace.”
Why Is This Important?
Because most of us live in a loop of resistance:
- We want to control what people think of us.
- We want our lives to be easier, prettier, fairer.
- We want our pasts to be different.
- We want our partners to change.
- We want our pain to just disappear.
And the more we resist, the more we suffer.
Padraig writes:
“Much of our distress comes from fighting reality instead of responding to it.”
And when I read that line, I felt something crack open inside me.
I had been doing exactly that.
My Story: A Life Built on Resistance
When I first came to Japan, I had big dreams.
A happy family.
A peaceful home.
A simple, contented life.
But over time, reality didn’t match my dreams.
My marriage was falling apart silently.
I was alone in raising my kids.
The man I loved was careless with our finances, our future, and my heart.
For so long, I resisted the truth.
I told myself:
- “Maybe it’ll get better.”
- “Maybe if I just love harder, fix more, forgive again…”
- “Maybe if I stay silent, it will go away.”
But no matter how long I waited or how much I gave, nothing changed.
Until I changed.
Until I stopped resisting what was and started accepting what is.
When I Embraced the Acceptance Dynamic
That shift didn’t make everything easier. But it made me stronger.
I started looking at my situation not through the lens of “Why me?”
But from the lens of “What now?”
That’s when the Acceptance Dynamic began to bloom in me.
I stopped begging life to be fair.
And I started showing up for the life I had—with open eyes, and an open heart.
I started choosing:
- Peace over pleasing.
- Boundaries over bitterness.
- Growth over guilt.
- Purpose over pity.
This didn’t make me weak—it made me powerful.
Because I realized: when you stop fighting what you can’t control, you start unlocking what you can.
The Dynamic in Action: How It Shifts Your Life
Let’s make it real and practical.
Here’s how Padraig describes the transformation of the Acceptance Dynamic—and how I’ve seen it unfold in my own life:
Without Acceptance | With Acceptance |
“I can’t believe this is happening.” | “This is painful, but it’s real. I will deal with it.” |
“I hate how I feel.” | “These emotions are valid. I can sit with them without drowning.” |
“Why won’t they change?” | “They may never change. I will choose how I respond.” |
“I should be stronger by now.” | “Healing takes time. I’m doing my best, and that’s enough.” |
The result? You stop spiraling—and you start living.
The Gift of Grace in a Hard Season
I’ve learned that I may not be able to control other people’s choices.
But I can always control how I treat myself.
And with every breath of acceptance, I return home to grace.
I don’t have all the answers.
I still get tired.
There are nights when I cry quietly after putting my kids to sleep.
But I am no longer at war with my life.
And that’s freedom.
Action Steps to Practice the Acceptance Dynamic
Inspired by Padraig’s wisdom, here are a few simple practices that can help you shift from resistance to resilience:
- Pause and name what’s true.
→ “I’m overwhelmed.” “I feel alone.” “This hurts.”
Let the truth be spoken. It doesn’t make you weak—it makes you honest. - Ask, “What’s in my control right now?”
→ Maybe it’s a small act of self-care. Maybe it’s saying no. Maybe it’s choosing rest. - Choose one kind response to yourself.
→ Instead of punishing yourself, offer compassion: “I’m doing the best I can with what I have.” - Affirm this truth:
→ “Even though I’m in a hard place, I can still make choices that lead me toward healing.”
Acceptance Is the Beginning of Change
Dear reader, if you’re in a hard chapter of your life right now…
If you’re carrying the weight of disappointment, heartbreak, or fear…
If you’re far from home—geographically or emotionally…
Please remember this:
You don’t have to have it all figured out.
You just have to accept where you are and believe that better is possible.
That’s the miracle of acceptance.
It doesn’t erase the pain.
It doesn’t fix everything overnight.
But it frees you to start again.
To rise.
To rebuild.
To walk forward with faith, even if your knees still shake.
Acceptance is not the end—it’s the beginning of everything beautiful.
Chapter 8: Acceptance and Climate Change — Loss and Hope
“We do not inherit the Earth from our ancestors; we borrow it from our children.” – Native Proverb
There are truths so vast, so painful, that our first reaction is to turn away. To shut down.
But as Padraig O’Morain reminds us in Acceptance, we cannot grow numb in the face of truth—we must accept, not to give up, but to wake up.
And climate change is one of those truths.
Why Does Climate Change Belong in a Book About Acceptance?
Because the wounds of our planet are deeply tied to the wounds in our hearts.
We grieve the changes we see—the storms, the fires, the vanishing species, the silent skies—and we don’t always know what to do with that grief.
Acceptance, here, isn’t a resignation to doom.
It is a brave acknowledgment of what is happening, so we can respond with wisdom, not despair.
Padraig calls us to accept the loss without losing hope.
My Own Awakening: Grief for a World Changing
As a mother raising my children in a country that is not my own, I often think about what kind of world I’m leaving behind for them.
There are days in Japan when the air feels too warm for the season, when cherry blossoms bloom earlier than they should, and I can’t help but feel a quiet ache in my chest.
When I was a child in the Philippines, typhoons were seasonal. Predictable.
Now, the rain feels angrier. The winds, more violent. Our planet is hurting—and so are the people who depend on it.
I used to feel helpless, overwhelmed, even guilty.
But through Acceptance, I’ve learned that my grief is not useless.
It is sacred.
It is the proof that I care—and the beginning of hope.
Acceptance and the Grief of Loss
Padraig talks about “pre-loss grief”—the grief we feel before something is completely gone.
It’s the sadness of knowing the coral reefs may die before our children see them.
The fear that forests we once walked through might be swallowed by flames.
The heartbreak of knowing future generations may not hear the same birdsong we grew up with.
But he also teaches us this:
“Grief acknowledged becomes love in action.”
When we accept the grief instead of running from it, we are empowered to act not out of panic, but out of deep love.
From Acceptance to Action
I used to think, “What can someone like me really do?”
I am not a politician.
I don’t work for the UN.
I’m just a mom, a woman sharing her story to the world, a foreigner trying to build a more meaningful life in Japan.
But Acceptance helped me see that small actions matter.
That caring is a form of loving.
That teaching my daughters to recycle, to love animals, to be gentle with nature—that is enough to begin with.
And from that place of stillness and clarity, I’ve started doing a little more.
- Using less plastic.
- Choosing local produce.
- Walking instead of driving when I can.
- Supporting eco-conscious creators.
- Raising my daughters to be aware, awake, and empowered.
Acceptance opens the door to responsibility without paralysis.
Hope: The Other Half of Acceptance
Hope is not pretending everything is fine.
Hope is saying, “Things are hard, but I believe change is still possible.”
Padraig emphasizes this:
“We don’t need perfect hope. We just need enough to keep us going.”
And sometimes, hope comes in small things:
- A community planting trees together.
- A child proudly refusing a plastic straw.
- An old man feeding birds in the park.
- A foreign mother like me, teaching her children to honor the Earth.
That is the hope born of acceptance—the kind that says:
“Yes, we are in a difficult place. But from this place, something beautiful can still grow.”
Action Steps: Responding with Grace, Not Guilt
Here are a few gentle ways to practice climate-conscious living inspired by acceptance:
- Acknowledge your grief.
→ Let yourself feel the ache without rushing to fix it.
→ Say, “This matters to me. That’s why it hurts.” - Educate without shame.
→ Share small truths with your children or friends, without blame.
→ Choose compassion over criticism. - Make one loving shift.
→ Choose one thing—like bringing reusable bags or reducing food waste—and do it consistently. - Stay connected.
→ Follow people, communities, or movements that are doing hopeful work.
→ Let their energy refill yours. - Believe in impact.
→ Remember: You may not change the world alone, but your love leaves a ripple that matters.
Safeguarding Our Mental Health Amid the Climate Crisis
When we talk about climate change, we often focus on the planet.
But Padraig gently reminds us: we must also care for the climate within us.
The emotional impact of global warming, natural disasters, rising temperatures, and an uncertain future isn’t just scientific—it’s deeply psychological. And without conscious care, it can lead to burnout, anxiety, depression, and despair.
So, how do we protect ourselves, especially when we feel deeply?
Here are the vital practices Padraig offers—and how I’ve come to live them in my own life:
1. Cultivate Optimism — Even If It’s Quiet and Gentle
In Acceptance, Padraig doesn’t suggest toxic positivity or pretending everything is okay.
Instead, he talks about realistic optimism—the quiet, steady belief that we still have choices, and that those choices matter.
As a mother, there are days when I look at my daughters and wonder what kind of world they will inherit. That thought alone can bring me to tears.
But then I remind myself: They are growing up with values I didn’t even know at their age.
They know how to recycle. They know how to turn off the lights. They know the Earth is not disposable.
That’s optimism. Not denial—but determination.
Try this: Start each morning by naming one thing you’re hopeful for.
It could be a local project, a global shift, or even a kind message from a reader.
Optimism is fuel, and we need it to keep going.
2. Let Climate Awareness Become Part of Your Identity—And Be Proud of It
Padraig writes that embracing our awareness of climate change as part of our identity can actually bring comfort and clarity.
For me, this shifted everything.
I used to feel ashamed that I was so emotional about the planet, that I’m worried over melting glaciers, or felt deeply about deforestation in places I’ve never been.
Now, I realize: that’s not a weakness. That’s a beautiful strength.
Being someone who cares—who feels—is nothing to hide.
It’s something to honor.
Try this: Speak openly about your values. Let others know you care.
Wear it with pride, not pressure.
You’re not overreacting. You’re deeply awake.
3. Relax Your Body — Because Your Nervous System Needs Rest, Too
When we feel anxious about the state of the world, our bodies carry it.
Tension in our neck. Tightness in our chest. Shallow breathing. Sleepless nights.
Padraig reminds us that soothing the body is a way to soothe the mind.
In Japan, I found refuge in the little rituals: a hot bath, journaling, even listening to the rain really soothe me.
Try this: Practice progressive muscle relaxation or take three deep breaths before bed.
Your body deserves to feel safe, even if the world outside doesn’t always feel that way.
And when I hold my daughters close, I often feel my own body soften. That, too, is healing.
4. Be Mindful — Come Back to This Moment, Right Here
Mindfulness is a thread woven throughout Acceptance. It’s about choosing to live in the present, not in the what-ifs of the future or the regrets of the past.
“You don’t have to solve the climate crisis right now. You only need to take the next kind, mindful step.”
When my thoughts race, I place my hand on my heart and breathe deeply.
Then I whisper, “I am here. I am breathing. I am okay.”
Try this: Look around and name five things you can see. Feel your feet on the ground.
Mindfulness doesn’t erase the pain, but it brings you home to your center.
5. Practice Gratitude — Even in the Face of Loss
At first, this felt impossible.
How can we feel gratitude when forests are burning? When are oceans rising?
But Padraig explains it gently: Gratitude and grief can live side by side.
And sometimes, noticing what is still good helps anchor us through what’s not.
Each time I walk my daughter to school and see cherry blossoms bloom again, I feel it.
Gratitude.
Not because everything is perfect.
But because this moment is still a gift.
Try this: Before bed, name three things you’re thankful for.
It could be clean air, safe drinking water, or the courage to care.
Gratitude doesn’t ignore the crisis.
It reminds you why it’s worth fighting for.
Protect Your Fragile Mental Health — With Boundaries and Kindness
Not everyone can be an activist.
And even those who need rest.
Padraig emphasizes: your mental health must come first. You can’t pour from an empty cup.
That means setting boundaries—like limiting how much news you consume, or saying no to conversations that drain you.
It also means offering yourself compassion.
You are doing what you can. And that’s enough.
Try this: Limit doom-scrolling. Create safe, hopeful spaces. Let yourself laugh and rest.
Sometimes, I turn off the phone and dance in the living room with my girls. That joy is sacred. That joy is necessary.
Protect the Mental Health of Children — With Truth and Hope
This, perhaps, is the most important part for me, as a mother.
Our children are growing up in a world filled with climate uncertainty.
But they’re also growing up with you, a parent who cares, teaches, and leads by example.
Padraig urges us not to fill them with fear, but with courage.
“Teach them to care, not to despair.”
I tell my daughters the truth.
But I also show them the beauty of the world.
We water our plants. We clean up trash. We talk about kindness.
And when they ask, “Mama, will the Earth be okay?”
I answer, “We’re doing everything we can. And love always makes a difference.”
Try this: Invite your children into small acts of stewardship. Praise their efforts. Give them hope.
They don’t need a perfect world.
They need a present parent—and that’s who you already are.
You Are Not Powerless—You Are Precious
The Earth needs warriors—but also weepers, whisperers, and wonderers.
You don’t need to carry the weight of the world alone.
You only need to take care of your world—your body, your mind, your children, your home.
That, too, is how the world heals.
As Padraig O’Morain teaches, acceptance is not giving up.
It’s giving yourself the peace to keep going—with grace, with kindness, with hope.
And in doing that, you become the very hope the world needs most.
Chapter 9: Acceptance and Social Solidarity
“When you see yourself as part of the human family—not separate, not above, not below—you’re no longer fighting the world… you’re walking with it.”
What Is Social Solidarity?
Padraig defines social solidarity as our shared responsibility to each other as human beings. It’s not charity. It’s not superiority. It’s not pity.
It’s the quiet but powerful truth that your well-being is tied to mine, and mine to yours.
We’re not meant to survive life alone.
And we’re not meant to grow through hardship in isolation.
But how can acceptance of ourselves, of others, of the world build the bridges we need to stand together?
Let’s explore how Padraig’s lessons bring this to life.
Acceptance Helps Us Move From Judgement to Compassion
Padraig teaches that when we stop harshly judging ourselves, we naturally stop harshly judging others.
Because once you’ve accepted your flaws, it’s easier to accept theirs.
When I first came to Japan, I often felt “different.”
The way I looked. The way I spoke. The way I raised my children.
I used to judge myself for not blending in enough… and I unconsciously felt judged by others, too.
But over time, I learned something profound through acceptance:
The more I softened my inner voice, the more I softened my view of others.
I started to see the beauty in our differences and the courage in all of us just trying to belong.
From the book: Padraig writes that “judgment separates,” while acceptance “connects us more deeply to ourselves and others.”
In acceptance, we stop seeing people as them and more as us.
Acceptance Reminds Us That We All Struggle—Just Differently
One of the book’s most powerful messages is this:
We’re all human. We all carry wounds.
Some just hide them better.
Padraig urges us to realize that your pain doesn’t isolate you—it makes you human. And when we accept that, we become more open-hearted to others’ pain, too.
As a foreigner, I’ve often felt invisible. Like no one sees how hard it is to raise children in a foreign land, to smile while grieving, to speak kindly while barely hanging on.
But then, I’ve also met others—Japanese mothers, immigrant fathers, elderly neighbors—who carry their own silent battles.
I wouldn’t have noticed if I weren’t willing to look.
From the book: Padraig reminds us that “acceptance opens us to the fact that others are often doing their best under heavy emotional burdens.”
He invites us to “cultivate patience” and become “witnesses to each other’s humanness.”
Acceptance Builds a World Where We Can All Breathe Freely
Padraig writes that true solidarity is not just emotional—it’s also practical.
It’s choosing systems and behaviors that do no harm, that uplift others, and that create space for healing.
In my own life, that has looked like:
- Offering support to other foreign mothers navigating bureaucracy in Japan.
- Sharing food with my fellow foreigners during tough times.
- Volunteering at my daughters’ school, despite language barriers, to show I care.
It’s not grand. It’s not loud. But it’s real.
It’s what Padraig might call “micro-solidarity”—the tiny, daily acts that build a kinder world.
From the book: “Acceptance is not the same as passivity,” Padraig says. “Rather, it’s a foundation for wise, compassionate action.”
Acceptance Doesn’t Fix the World—But It Heals the Way We Walk Through It
Padraig doesn’t promise that acceptance will erase injustice or suffering.
But it will change how we carry it.
It will let us say:
- “This hurts—but I will still love.”
- “This is unfair—but I will still show up.”
- “This is hard—but I am not alone.”
That’s solidarity.
That’s the quiet strength that grows when we know: I belong, and so do you.
My Story: From Isolation to Connection
I’ll be honest—there was a time I thought I didn’t matter in this country.
No family of my own. No fluent language skills. No financial power. Just me and my two daughters.
But slowly, through the practice of acceptance—and through reading Acceptance by Padraig O’Morain—I began to see myself differently.
I am part of this world.
Even as a foreigner. Even as a woman. Even as someone still healing.
And you know what? So are you.
Now, when I see another mom struggling with her stroller, I offer help.
When I meet someone new to Japan, I smile first.
Not because everything is perfect.
But because I know what it feels like to need someone to care, I’ve decided I’ll be that person now.
Solidarity Begins With Acceptance
You don’t need to lead a movement to change the world.
You just need to accept this:
- You matter.
- Your presence is powerful.
- Your pain connects you to others, not separates you from them.
- And when you embrace your story, you light the way for someone else to embrace theirs.
As Padraig O’Morain writes, “Acceptance connects us to each other and allows our compassion to flourish.”
So let’s live in that connection.
Let’s live in that quiet revolution of kindness.
Let’s walk together.
Chapter 10: Acceptance and Gratitude
“Gratitude can live alongside grief, confusion, and uncertainty. It does not ask you to deny your pain. It simply asks you to make room for what is still good.”
Many people misunderstand gratitude.
They think it’s pretending to be happy when you’re not.
They think it’s forcing positivity in the face of pain.
But Acceptance teaches something more powerful and real:
Gratitude is not denial—it’s recognition.
It’s not about pretending everything is okay.
It’s about finding the tiny flames of light that still burn, even in the darkest moments.
And when you practice acceptance, you can finally see those flames.
What the Book Teaches: Gratitude As A Life Practice
Padraig O’Morain writes that gratitude becomes easier when we accept the reality of our lives, instead of constantly fighting it.
He shares how acceptance:
- Frees us from the trap of “I’ll be grateful when life is better,”
- Invites us to say, “Even in this moment, I can find something good,”
- Helps us notice simple things—a smile, a safe home, a warm meal—that otherwise get lost in our longing for something more.
“You do not need a perfect life to feel gratitude,” Padraig gently reminds. “You only need the willingness to see clearly.”
My Story: How Gratitude Found Me In My Rock Bottom
I never thought I’d say this, but…
Gratitude saved me when life gave me every reason to fall apart.
If you’ve read my last blog post, you know I’ve been through what feels like the rock bottom of my life—emotionally, mentally, and financially.
- A marriage that broke me more than it built me.
- Maxed-out credit cards in my name, and a husband who didn’t protect our family.
- Raising two beautiful daughters alone in a foreign country, without the security or support most people take for granted.
I had every reason to feel bitter. To curse life. To give up.
But there was something—a tiny voice inside—that kept whispering,
“This is not the end. Just open your eyes. Look again.”
So I did.
I looked again and found gratitude, like a hidden treasure beneath the rubble.
- I looked at my daughters, sleeping peacefully beside me.
- I looked at the warm rice. I had enough money to cook.
- I looked at the messages from my family in the Philippines, reminding me I’m loved.
- I looked at the blog I’m building, the dreams I’m still chasing.
And I cried—not out of sadness, but out of awe.
Because even in my emptiness, life still gave me something to hold onto.
That’s what Padraig means by acceptance.
Not “everything is fine.”
But “there’s still something here I can cherish.”
The Practice of Gratitude in Everyday Life
Padraig offers gentle, accessible practices for building gratitude into your daily life, even when life feels heavy:
- Notice the good in others.
Even if someone hurt you, can you see something they did right?
Maybe they once helped you. Or smiled at your child. That matters. - Celebrate small joys.
A hot shower. A peaceful walk. A kind word.
Don’t wait for big breakthroughs—treasure the small mercies. - Write or speak gratitude, especially in hard times.
Padraig says keeping a “gratitude journal” can lift your heart.
Even three things a day—“I’m breathing. My kids are healthy. I had coffee.” It’s enough. - Use acceptance to break free from comparison.
Gratitude grows when we stop measuring our lives against others.
What Acceptance and Gratitude Gave Me
Do I still struggle? Yes.
Do I still cry at night sometimes? Of course.
But I no longer feel trapped in bitterness.
Because I’ve accepted that this is part of my journey.
And because of that acceptance, I’m able to see and receive every drop of beauty life still gives me.
I’m grateful not because life is easy, but because I’m still here, still growing, still loving, still becoming.
And so are you.
The Gift of Today
Dear reader, I don’t know what you’re facing today.
But I do know this:
You don’t need a perfect life to be grateful.
You only need to pause.
To breathe.
To notice what is still good and still true.
- The people who love you.
- The strength that has carried you this far.
- The courage that still beats in your chest.
- The sunrise you didn’t have to ask for.
As Padraig O’Morain reminds us:
“Gratitude is the flower that grows when we stop fighting reality and choose to embrace what is.”
So today, let’s stop fighting.
Let’s accept.
Let’s give thanks—not because life is perfect, but because we are still capable of love, of hope, and of healing.
And that is everything.
Chapter 11: Acceptance as Self-Compassion
“You are already worthy of love, especially your own. Especially now.”
Why Self-Compassion is Often the Hardest Kind of Love
We live in a world that celebrates strength, perfection, and productivity.
But what about those days when we can’t be strong?
What about the days when the house is a mess, your heart is heavier than your hands, and you barely recognize the woman in the mirror?
This chapter of Padraig’s book reminds us of one of the hardest—but most important—forms of acceptance:
The acceptance of yourself. Right here. Right now. With all your flaws, fears, and failures.
Self-Compassion is the Path Back to Yourself
Padraig O’Morain explains that many people mistake self-compassion for laziness, self-pity, or weakness.
But real self-compassion, rooted in acceptance, is none of these.
Instead, it is:
- Gentle but honest.
- Tender but firm.
- Empowering, not enabling.
It’s about becoming your own safe place in a world that often isn’t.
“When we accept ourselves with compassion, we break the cycle of self-judgment and start a cycle of healing instead.”
My Story: What Self-Compassion Looked Like in My Rock Bottom
There was a time I didn’t know what self-compassion even meant.
I thought being strong meant always pushing through, just crying, never asking for help.
But that kind of strength broke me.
After everything I’ve gone through—being in a marriage where I felt invisible and unheard, carrying the weight of debt that wasn’t mine, raising my children alone in a country that still feels foreign on hard days—I reached a point where I couldn’t pretend anymore.
I wasn’t okay.
And one day, I looked in the mirror and whispered something I never had before:
“You don’t have to be perfect to be loved.”
That moment was the beginning of my healing.
I started to offer myself the kindness I gave to everyone else:
- I allowed myself to rest without guilt.
- I cried without apologizing.
- I stopped calling myself a failure for not having it all together.
- I started talking to myself like I would to my daughters—with gentleness, encouragement, and belief.
That… was self-compassion.
That was acceptance.
How to Begin Practicing Self-Compassion
Padraig offers simple but powerful tools to practice self-compassion:
1. Be kind to yourself like you would to a friend.
Would you call your best friend “useless” if she made a mistake?
Then why talk to yourself that way?
2. Let go of perfection.
Acceptance doesn’t wait until you’ve fixed everything.
It meets you in your mess and says, “You’re doing your best, and that’s enough.”
3. Use compassionate self-talk.
Instead of “I can’t do anything right,” try,
“This is hard right now, but I’m doing the best I can.”
4. Don’t confuse acceptance with resignation.
Padraig reminds us: accepting where you are doesn’t mean staying there.
It means being gentle with yourself while you keep moving forward.
What It Feels Like Now
Now, when I wake up with anxiety in my chest, I don’t scold myself.
I hold space for that emotion.
I breathe through it.
I remind myself I’m not broken—I’m healing.
And when I make progress, I celebrate.
When I fall back, I don’t punish myself.
Because I finally understand what Acceptance has been trying to teach me:
I deserve my own love, not just when I win, but even when I’m simply trying.
A Letter To The Woman Still Learning To Love Herself
To you reading this—maybe feeling like you’re not enough—please hear me:
You are not your past.
You are not your mistakes.
You are not the voice in your head that tells you you’re failing.
You are a soul in progress.
You are a mother, a dreamer, a fighter.
And you deserve the same love, grace, and tenderness you pour out to others.
As Padraig O’Morain writes,
“Acceptance and self-compassion are not rewards for getting life right. They are tools to help us keep going when life goes wrong.”
So let yourself be soft.
Let yourself be kind.
Let yourself be human.
That’s where true strength begins.
Chapter 12: Acceptance and Positivity
As a foreigner, a mother walking through heartache, a woman still rebuilding her inner world, I’ve come to realize that real positivity isn’t about putting on a brave face or forcing a smile when life is tearing you apart. It’s about accepting your truth and still choosing to move forward with hope.
The Misunderstanding About Positivity
In a culture obsessed with “good vibes only,” it’s easy to think positivity means denying sadness, pretending everything’s fine, or ignoring the pain.
But Padraig gently corrects this idea.
True positivity is not about toxic optimism.
It’s not about silencing our pain—it’s about including it in our story, and still choosing to believe in something better.
What the Book Teaches Us: Positivity Through the Lens of Acceptance
Padraig O’Morain reminds us that when we accept what’s difficult in life instead of fighting it, we create space to respond with:
- Calm,
- Wisdom,
- And yes—real positivity.
In his words:
“Acceptance helps us move toward the positive, because we’re not wasting our energy resisting reality.”
This means:
- You can feel grief and still believe healing is possible.
- You can feel tired and still dream of a better life.
- You can carry disappointment and still find reasons to smile.
Acceptance softens the blow so positivity can bloom—even in dark soil.
My Story: How I Found Positivity in the Middle of Pain
There were nights I stared at the ceiling, crushed by the weight of everything:
- A marriage that felt more like a silent battlefield than a home.
- Financial burdens that weren’t mine but were now my reality.
- Loneliness that came from being a foreigner, a mother, and a woman trying to hold everything together.
I couldn’t fake a smile some days.
I couldn’t pretend everything was okay.
But do you know what I could do?
I could look at my daughters’ faces and say, “I’m still here.”
I could get up, even when it felt like the world was falling down.
I could whisper to myself, “This won’t be forever.”
That, my friend, was positivity.
Not perfection. Not fake happiness.
But resilience wrapped in acceptance.
How to Cultivate Authentic Positivity
Padraig offers these gentle and powerful insights on how to invite true positivity into your life—not by denying your reality, but by embracing it fully.
1. Name your pain, then choose your focus.
Positivity begins when you acknowledge what hurts, but gently choose to also notice what’s still good.
Try this: “Yes, I’m struggling… but today I had a warm meal, and my child smiled at me. That counts.”
2. Turn your attention toward hope.
Hope doesn’t erase the problem—it gives you the strength to face it.
Each time you say, “I will get through this,” you’re planting a seed of positive change.
3. Use gratitude to shift your energy.
Gratitude isn’t about ignoring what’s wrong—it’s about seeing what’s still right.
Padraig encourages us to reflect on even small blessings: the smell of coffee, a soft pillow, a kind message.
Gratitude brings light into the room, even when the windows are shut.
4. Find joy in the small moments.
Positivity isn’t found in big wins—it lives in little glimmers of joy:
- A laugh with your kids.
- A quiet walk.
- Finishing a hard day with a heart that still hopes.
These moments matter. Let them lift you.
What It Looks Like Now: My Quiet Joy
Now, I don’t pretend my life is perfect.
But I don’t drown in the pain either.
I’ve learned to say:
“This is my life. It’s hard, yes. But I’m still here. I’m still loving. I’m still rising.”
And sometimes, that’s the most positive thing you can do.
The Quiet Bravery of Staying Hopeful
To you, dear reader, who feels overwhelmed by life’s storms:
You don’t have to fake happiness.
You don’t have to smile when your heart is heavy.
But I hope you know—
Your decision to keep going,
To breathe through the chaos,
To believe in better days…
That’s positivity in its most powerful form.
As Padraig O’Morain writes,
“Acceptance gives us the ground to stand on, and positivity gives us the courage to walk forward.”
So walk on, brave soul.
Even if it’s slow. Even if you’re limping.
Every step counts.
And joy, no matter how quiet, will find its way back to you.
Chapter 13: Acceptance and Mindfulness
“The present moment is the only place where acceptance can happen. And when it does, life begins to soften.”
If you’re anything like me, there have been times when the present moment felt like too much to carry.
Sometimes, I’d find myself lost in the regrets of the past:
- “Why did I marry someone who wouldn’t protect me?”
- “What if I had made a different choice years ago?”
Other times, I’d be swallowed up by fear of the future:
- “Will I ever be free from this debt?”
- “How can I give my children a better life as a foreigner in Japan?”
Mindfulness, as Padraig O’Morain teaches, is not about escaping these thoughts.
It’s about learning how to breathe through them and return to the only place where life truly happens: now.
What the Book Teaches Us: The Power of Being Here Now
Padraig defines mindfulness as a simple, non-judgmental awareness of the present moment.
But what makes mindfulness transformational is how it works hand-in-hand with acceptance.
When you practice mindfulness with acceptance:
- You stop fighting the moment.
- You stop demanding that things feel different.
- You soften your resistance and begin to live with more peace, even in pain.
“Mindfulness practiced with acceptance allows us to be kinder to ourselves and less entangled in our suffering,” Padraig explains.
It’s not a magic trick—it’s a gentle shift in how we hold our thoughts, our feelings, and our experiences.
My Story: How Mindfulness Became My Anchor
There was a time I lived in survival mode.
My mind was always racing—calculating bills, anticipating tension at home, replaying moments I wished I could erase. I was a mother on autopilot, barely breathing between the chaos.
But then I started something small.
Each morning, I placed my hand over my chest and simply breathed.
Not to clear my mind—but to remind myself:
“I am still here. I am safe right now. This moment is all I need to handle.”
I started noticing the way my daughter’s laugh danced through the room.
I noticed the warmth of coffee in my hands.
I noticed the quiet strength in my own heartbeat.
This was mindfulness—not in a fancy meditation room, but in my tiny, tired kitchen…
And it brought me home to myself.
Practicing Acceptance through Mindfulness
Padraig offers deeply practical insights on how to invite mindfulness into your day, especially when life feels overwhelming:
1. Notice without judging.
You don’t need to fix what you feel—just notice it.
“I’m feeling anxious right now.”
“I’m feeling hopeful.”
That’s enough. That awareness opens the door to calm.
2. Use your breath as a safe space.
Mindfulness doesn’t require hours of meditation. Just breathe in… breathe out… and know: this moment is all I need right now.
Padraig reminds us that even one mindful breath can begin to settle the storm.
3. Let go of resistance.
Instead of saying, “This shouldn’t be happening,”
try, “This is happening. Let me breathe through it with kindness.”
This doesn’t mean giving up—it means accepting the moment so you can respond with clarity and love.
4. Mindfulness in the ordinary.
Washing dishes. Folding laundry. Walking your child to school.
Each moment is a chance to return to yourself.
“Mindfulness isn’t an escape from life—it’s a deeper entry into it,” Padraig beautifully writes.
A Foreign Mother’s Kind of Mindfulness
Mindfulness for me wasn’t sitting cross-legged in silence.
It was crying in the shower and saying, “This pain is valid.”
It was watching my daughter eating and truly seeing her—the way her eyes lit up.
It was walking under cherry blossoms and letting their quiet beauty soften my fear.
Even in a life full of uncertainty, mindfulness gave me this:
A way back to hope.
The Present Moment is a Refuge
To the woman reading this, who feels like her thoughts are too loud and her future too unclear—
You don’t have to figure everything out right now.
You don’t have to fix the whole story today.
Just breathe.
Place your hand on your heart.
And whisper to yourself:
“This moment is enough. I am enough. I am safe right here.”
Because, as Padraig teaches us, mindfulness and acceptance are not about escaping pain—
They’re about walking through it, gently, with courage and compassion.
And I promise you—when you come home to the present,
you come home to your strength.
Chapter 14: Bitter Acceptance
“Acceptance isn’t always warm and fuzzy. Sometimes it’s a bitter surrender—a necessary letting go when life refuses to go the way we hoped.”
— Padraig O’Morain
When Life Doesn’t Turn Out the Way You Dreamed
There are moments that break something in us.
Moments when we whisper, “This isn’t the life I wanted. This isn’t fair.”
I’ve had those moments.
Like when I looked at my bank account—empty again—and thought, “How did I end up here?”
When my husband, instead of supporting our family, brought more weight and debt into our lives.
When I watched my children sleep, I prayed they would never feel the ache I carried deep inside.
I thought I was building a life. But at times, it felt like everything I built crumbled beneath me.
That’s when I met bitter acceptance.
What Padraig Teaches Us About Bitter Acceptance
Padraig O’Morain doesn’t romanticize acceptance.
He tells us the truth: Some parts of life will always hurt. Some events will never make sense.
But acceptance doesn’t mean saying, “It’s okay that this happened.”
It means saying, “This happened. And I will carry it. Not because it’s fair, but because it’s mine. And I can still live.”
He calls this bitter acceptance—a deeper, more difficult kind of letting go.
Sometimes it’s:
- The death of a dream.
- A betrayal you didn’t deserve.
- A diagnosis that changes your life.
- A loss you can’t replace.
And still… You go on.
Not because it’s easy, but because it’s possible.
My Story: Carrying the Bitter Without Letting It Break Me
There was a nights I cried doing my thing, like even how hard I worked on building my dreams, things are just the same.
Bills were piling up. I had no one to rely on. And I asked myself, “Is this really my life?”
But somewhere in that breakdown, something shifted.
I didn’t get a miracle. But I did get a quiet realization:
“I can’t change what’s already happened. But I can choose what I do with what remains.”
That’s what bitter acceptance taught me.
It didn’t erase the pain. But it gave me permission to live again—to dream again, to build something new from the ruins.
And day by day, I’m doing exactly that.
How to Practice Bitter Acceptance (Even When It Hurts)
Padraig offers guidance on what bitter acceptance looks like in practice. Here are some key insights from the book, softened by my own experience:
1. Stop Asking “Why Me?”
Some pain has no answer.
Padraig reminds us: you’re not accepting that it was right—you’re accepting that it happened.
This frees your energy to begin healing instead of endlessly replaying.
2. Honor the Pain
Bitter acceptance doesn’t mean pretending you’re okay.
It means letting the grief have its place, without letting it take over your identity.
I’ve cried in silence so my daughters wouldn’t see. That was real. But I didn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. I honored it—and I grew from it.
3. Shift from Resistance to Response
Resistance says, “This shouldn’t have happened.”
Acceptance says, “It did. Now what can I do with it?”
I started writing again. Sharing. Growing. Not because life felt perfect, but because my voice mattered more than my pain.
A Soft Reminder for Your Heart
You might be carrying something that feels too heavy to bear.
A dream that died. A betrayal that still stings. A version of your life you’ll never get back.
But here’s what bitter acceptance whispers to your soul:
“Yes, it hurts. But no, it’s not the end of your story.”
You are allowed to grieve and still hope.
You are allowed to feel broken and still be beautiful.
You are allowed to say, “This wasn’t fair,” and still rise from it stronger than ever.
From Bitterness, a New Beginning
Acceptance is not always sweet.
Sometimes, it tastes like ash and tears and silence.
But even in that bitterness, something sacred begins:
A quiet strength.
A deeper peace.
A fierce knowing that even now, you are capable of light.
As Padraig O’Morain teaches, bitter acceptance is not the end of joy—it is the beginning of your freedom.
And as for me?
I still walk through shadows. But I carry a lantern now.
Lit by every moment I’ve said, “This hurts, but I’m still standing.”
So, if you’re hurting, take my hand.
We may not change the past…
But we can walk forward, together, one brave, honest breath at a time.
Living in Acceptance
— A soul declaration of healing, lightness, and letting go.
There comes a moment—quiet, tender, yet powerful—when you realize:
You’ve been carrying too much for too long.
Pain you never spoke about.
Fears that kept you up at night.
Expectations that drained you.
Guilt that wasn’t even yours to begin with.
And dreams that felt farther and farther away because your heart was buried beneath survival.
I’ve been there. Still am, in some ways.
Living here in Japan, far from my roots, raising two beautiful girls while navigating emotional storms and financial burdens, I often felt like I was breaking silently.
There were nights I cried in the dark, wondering how much more I could take.
I had every reason to feel hopeless, depressed, and defeated.
And yet—somewhere inside me—something still whispered:
“This is not the end of your story.”
What Acceptance Gave Me
Reading Padraig O’Morain’s Acceptance wasn’t just a comforting experience—it was transformational.
It helped me see that acceptance doesn’t mean agreeing with everything that’s happened to you.
It means no longer being at war with it.
It’s allowing the pain to exist… without letting it own you.
It’s telling yourself:
“Yes, this is where I am right now. But this is not where I’ll stay.”
And in that shift—from resistance to surrender—you begin to breathe again.
You begin to hope again.
You begin to live again.
Letting Go So You Can Walk Light
Though things might be hard to accept now…
Though the weight feels unbearable at times…
Know this, dear reader:
By accepting what you cannot control,
You give yourself permission to drop the weight you’ve been carrying.
You say goodbye to what no longer serves you or your future self.
And with lighter steps,
You walk forward, not just for yourself,
But for the people who believe in you,
The children who look up to you,
And the dreams that still await you on the other side.
Acceptance is a Doorway to Love
Love for yourself.
Love for your truth.
Love for the life you still get to shape with your choices.
Because in the end, this is not about giving up.
It’s about making space—for healing, growth, purpose, and peace.
It’s about choosing to say:
“This happened. And still… I rise.”
“This is hard. And still… I’m worthy of joy.”
“This is painful. But I am not powerless.”
To You, Dear Reader…
If you’re in a season of loss…
If your world feels uncertain…
If your heart is tired of fighting…
Then may acceptance be your gentle path back to peace.
Not overnight.
Not perfectly.
But faithfully.
Because even now, your life is unfolding.
Even now, healing is finding you.
Even now, you are becoming the woman you were always meant to be.
So let go—not of your dreams,
But of the fear that tells you they’re too far.
Let go—not of your voice,
But of the silence that’s buried in your truth.
Let go—not of your worth,
But of the weight that keeps you from rising.
You are worthy of a lighter heart.
You are worthy of peace.
And you are worthy of walking this life—whole, healing, and free.