YogiWrites

Sometimes the best teachers wear no shoes themselves

I was stuck in Pune monsoon traffic when I saw something that changed how I think about setbacks forever.

A young shoeshine boy was carefully buffing a stranger’s loafers as rainwater dripped down his forehead. Then it happened—a speeding car splashed muddy water all over him and his customer’s freshly polished shoes.

I expected anger. Maybe a few choice words in Marathi.

Instead, he paused, wiped his face with his sleeve, looked at his customer and smiled. “Sir, now we make them extra shiny.” No drama, no victimhood. Just presence.

That’s when I realized I’d been confusing two completely different responses to life’s inevitable splashes: acceptance and resignation.

The Difference That Changes Everything

Resignation whispers: “This always happens to me. There’s no point.”

Acceptance says: “This is happening. What now?”

According to therapist Christy O’Shoney, resignation is “a sense of feeling defeated and incapable of creating change.” It’s that familiar sting when you tell yourself “that’s just the way it is” and shut down emotionally.

Acceptance, though? That’s different. O’Shoney describes it as actively acknowledging reality, validating your feelings, identifying what you can control, and reaching out for support when needed.

The shoeshine boy didn’t pretend the splash was pleasant. He felt the cold water, acknowledged the setback, then chose his response. That’s acceptance in action.

Why Your Brain Prefers the Wrong Choice

Here’s the thing about resignation—it feels easier in the moment. When that promotion goes to someone else, when the relationship ends, when the business struggles, resignation offers immediate relief from the discomfort of uncertainty.

“There’s no use getting worked up,” we tell ourselves. “I just need to get over it.”

But emotion theorists warn that this emotional numbing costs us. Those feelings we’re trying to avoid? They contain valuable information. Fear might signal genuine danger. Anger could highlight a boundary violation. Sadness helps us process loss.

When we resign, we miss these signals entirely.

Street Lessons in Acceptance

Last year, I met a retired farmer on a bus through Maharashtra who’d lost his entire sugarcane crop to flooding. “Devastating,” I said, expecting a story of defeat.

He laughed. “I cried for a week straight. My wife thought I’d lost my mind. Then I planted vegetables instead.”

“That’s it?” I asked.

“What else could I do? The flood happened. The crying needed to happen too. But then came the planting.”

He didn’t minimize his loss or skip the grief. He felt it fully, then asked what remained possible. His vegetable farm now feeds three villages.

How to Practice Acceptance Without Giving Up

Real acceptance isn’t passive. It’s one of the most active things you can do. Here’s how it works:

Acknowledge reality. What actually happened? Strip away the story and emotions for a moment. “I lost my job” instead of “I’m a failure who can’t keep anything together.”

Validate your feelings. This part trips people up. You’re allowed to feel scared, angry, or heartbroken. These aren’t character flaws—they’re human responses to difficulty.

Find your agency. Even in the worst situations, something remains under your control. Maybe it’s just your breathing. Maybe it’s who you call for support. Maybe it’s deciding to rest before making any big decisions.

Seek connection. Isolation turns acceptance into resignation faster than anything. Share your reality with someone who can sit with you in it.

When I Realized I Was Living the Same Pattern Twice

For years, I told myself I was just unlucky with relationships. First my mother, then my wife—both masters of the same psychological games. The silent treatments. The constant criticism disguised as “help.” The way they could make me feel like I was losing my mind.

My first response? Classic resignation. “This is just my karma. Some people get difficult families. I should be grateful and try harder.”

I spent years in that space—walking on eggshells, apologizing for things I didn’t do, convincing myself that love meant enduring emotional warfare. I’d think, “There’s no point in fighting back. This is just how they are.”

But resignation wasn’t protecting me. It was slowly erasing me.

Then I remembered the shoeshine boy.

I started acknowledging the reality: these weren’t normal relationship dynamics. I validated my feelings—the confusion, anger, and exhaustion were legitimate responses to being manipulated. Then I asked what remained under my control.

The answer was uncomfortable but clear: I could stay and keep shrinking, or I could walk away.

Walking out wasn’t easy. It meant facing judgment, rebuilding everything, starting over. But it also meant choosing my sanity over their comfort. Not because I stopped caring, but because I chose to work with reality instead of the fantasy that they might change.

The Questions That Reveal Everything

Notice your internal responses when things go sideways:

Do you find yourself saying “there’s nothing I can do”? That’s resignation talking.

Or do you eventually land on “this sucks, but what are my options”? That’s acceptance emerging.

The difference isn’t about being positive or optimistic. It’s about staying engaged with reality instead of emotionally checking out.

Acceptance Leads to Action

Here’s what surprised me most: acceptance actually speeds up positive change.

When you stop wasting energy fighting what already happened, all that power becomes available for what comes next. The farmer’s tears weren’t wasted time—they were necessary processing that freed him to plant vegetables.

The shoeshine boy’s pause wasn’t giving up—it was gathering himself to respond skillfully.

My team’s honest conversation about our fears wasn’t defeatist—it cleared the air so we could think clearly.

Your Turn

Think about something challenging you’re facing right now. Notice if you’re approaching it with resignation (“nothing I can do”) or acceptance (“this is happening, what now”).

If you catch yourself in resignation mode, try this: write down exactly what’s happening without interpretation. Feel whatever emotions arise without judgment. Then ask what tiny piece of agency you might have, even if it’s just deciding to have lunch before tackling the problem.

Finally, tell someone. Not for advice necessarily, just for connection. Isolation breeds resignation. Community nurtures acceptance.

The Street Wisdom Summary

Life will splash muddy water on your freshly polished plans. The question isn’t whether setbacks will come—it’s whether you’ll meet them with resignation or acceptance.

Resignation says the splash means giving up.

Acceptance says the splash means it’s time to shine even brighter.

The shoeshine boy understood something most of us miss: you can acknowledge rain without cursing the sky. You can feel the cold water without calling yourself a victim. You can wipe your face and keep working.

That’s not just philosophy. That’s survival wisdom from someone who makes beauty happen, one shoe at a time, regardless of weather.

What splash are you facing today? And more importantly, how will you choose to respond?

If this resonated with you, share it with someone who needs to hear it. Sometimes the best way to practice acceptance is to help others discover it too.

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