To be fully you, do you need self-acceptance? Seems logical, doesn’t it? After all, how could you be fully you while wanting to be someone or something else: taller, shorter, thinner, more muscular or richer, smarter, loved by the right one or any of the other things we humans want? That’s how the story goes doesn’t it? You can’t be the Real You, until you fall into the deep well, the deeper the better, and finally accept yourself as you are.

When you look at how we grow, we don’t start out doing marathons. We learn to hold up our head and rollover before we crawl. Walk-falling comes before walking and running shows up later.

Maybe self-acceptance is like that too. Maybe, just maybe, the lack of self-acceptance is grand gift, a walking stick, a heavenly helper for the journey, showing you the parts of you that you still creak and groan about and provide the carrot for the trip.

Maybe … love that word, for what do I really know … it’s not even necessary at all. Maybe all that’s needed is to notice that you don’t like yourself as you are and accept that.

See, that’s the glory of this glorious incarnation. It’s not so much about accepting everything as it is, as much as accepting you, as you are — even with your non-acceptance.

If you’re having a day where everything feels like sand in your swimsuit, have it. Be irritated and be it honestly. Let yourself be what you are. Trying to be spiritual about it, trying to not be irritated when you are, just stuffs it deeper. It’s like stuffing wadding in a cannon. All it takes is one little spark and that cannon is bound to go off … and so are you. The more you stuff it, the greater the likelihood.

What’s fun is what happens when you are simply honest, totally authentic. You might find yourself sitting in a heap crying like a baby or you might just start giggling and not be able to stop. Life is pretty funny. Either way, you’ll be doing you, fully.

That’s the mistake us spiritual folks make. We think that spiritual looks a certain way — beautiful flowy saintly holy perfect. The problem with those words is they carry a lot of baggage and a wide range of interpretations. Besides that, which is plenty, they miss the mark entirely.

What if authentic tears and laughter are beautiful? There is nothing quite so beautiful as a heartful human. What if flowy isn’t a way of looking or dressing but a way to describe being a willing participant in the flow of whatever arises? What if saintly doesn’t point to the idea of being pious and above it all, but one who is open and fully human? What if holy is not about having a foot in heaven but walking with both feet on earth? And what if perfect is life, and you, as it is?

Being fully you isn’t about presenting the perfect picture. It isn’t even about learning to accept the picture you present … although that seems to come at about mile 25 of the marathon. It’s about doing you, being you, exactly as you are and that dear one, is perfect.