In an effort to stay engaged in my own practice of writing — writing for me, for my thoughts, for my clarity — I wistfully thought I’d sit down at the end of every day and jot down a few thoughts about what it meant to resign that day.
January 8th | feeling fragile isn’t a flaw. Being fragile isn’t bad. You don’t have to be and you shouldn’t be strong and brave and resilient ALL THE DAMN TIME. Resign and let yourself soften. Sink into the space of comfort. Let other people take care of you.
January 9th | Resign – Actively take action. Be resigned to – Passively interact with a moment. There is a distinct difference between these two-word variations. There is a time to resign. There is also a time to resign to something being true.
And then my (too soon to call it a) habit faded away.
January 22nd | Trust that you know yourself. Trust that you know things without having the knowledge to explain why. Trust that your vision is true.
In the 16 days since I’ve lived with this word, where I’ve tried to let my actions take shape around this word, I’ve observed a few things. This word doesn’t have a single definition. This word can be lived in so many ways. It is a choice between being engaged or being passive. There is a place for both. It also takes a considerable amount of trust to resign your control over outcomes. It takes a lot of restraint to resign when the moment doesn’t serve you.
I have a post-it note on my desk. The message is simple:
What do you get by staying in it?
The statement was made in passing during a casual conversation, but it stopped me in my tracks. I wrote it down. I stuck it in a place I know I will always see it. I ask myself this question on a daily basis.
One of my kids is misbehaving. It can be exhausting to stick to the discipline. What do I get by staying in it? I get a whole heck of a lot. I gain a lot, and my children need me to stay in it no matter how exhausting it can be. They deserve to have a mom who stays in it. They are worth the fight. I resign to the fact that it will be exhausting.
A conflict arises with a friend. What do I get by staying in it? Nothing. Not one thing but hurt feelings and loneliness. Staying in it doesn’t serve me. I resign my hurt feelings and move on.
Active. Passive. Action. Letting go.
There is an ebb and flow to these definitions that I love. It feels settled and engaged. It feels intentional. It feels welcoming and exciting. It feels like living.
Last year I made the intention to enjoy the ordinary moments. I wanted to sink into life and love the day to day. This year’s intention seems to be the welcome mat to living that way.
I don’t know what it means to resign myself to the life I am living, but I do know that something inside me tells me this is exactly right for me.