God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
I love the Serenity Prayer because it offers perspective—helping me recognize where I have control and agency in my life and where I am resisting things beyond my power to change.
With the current administration igniting fear, panic, rage, grief, and uncertainty for so many, it can be easy to feel powerless, hopeless, and lost. At the same time, history shows us that communities have stayed connected, built, thrived, and sustained themselves in the face of oppression for centuries.
Accepting What I Cannot Change
How do I accept the things I cannot change? This question is profoundly difficult, and I believe the majority of humans struggle with it. Why do horrific things happen in the world? Why is there violence? How do we accept things that seem fundamentally wrong? I don’t have the answers, but I sit with these questions every day.
For me, acceptance starts in my own small universe. If I can practice acceptance here, perhaps I can extend it to the larger world, where I have little to no control. When a difficult emotion arises in me, how do I respond?
- Do I fight it, trying to banish it because it feels unwanted?
- Do I judge it, labeling some emotions as good and others as bad?
- Do I welcome it in, sitting with it like an old friend?
- Do I run from it, trying to hide?
How I engage with my internal landscape mirrors my ability or inability to accept external realities. I can’t change my emotions just because I want to, but I can work toward accepting them. Acceptance doesn’t mean I have to like or enjoy them—it simply means allowing them to exist because they are part of the present moment, and I cannot change that reality.
In Yoga one of the niyamas in the eight limbs of yoga is Īśvara praṇidhāna, which literally means surrender to the Lord. Acceptance can be seen as a form of surrender to what is, which is different than giving up.
Finding the Courage to Change What I Can
In some ways, it’s easier to direct my energy outward than to look within. If everyone, including this administration, did what I wanted, I wouldn’t have to examine myself or the places where I have the power to create change, both internally and externally. This is not saying we should not fight for the change we want to see in the world because that is necessary, but by relying on others to change we lose some of our agency.
I appreciate the word courage in this prayer because it asks me to acknowledge my own power, resilience, and strength in the face of what I cannot change, and it also asks me to take responsibility.
As I bring it back to my internal world, if I am uncomfortable with anger, I may try to suppress or bypass it, pretending I’m not angry. That’s not acceptance. True courage means being willing to look at what I’ve rejected, punished, or pushed aside. It’s vulnerable to sit with anger (or sadness, fear, grief, etc.) and face it directly. I can’t control whether I feel anger, but I can cultivate the courage to engage with it consciously.
The niyamas of Yoga also include Tapas, which translates to austerity or heat. This ability to have the courage to act and do something within our sphere of control is necessary, but if we only move from tapas without surrender we will burnout.
Developing the Wisdom to Know the Difference
It may be simple to say, I can’t control what someone else does, but I can control what I do. In my experience, it is often more complicated.
I have little control over my body’s reactions, the emotions that arise and subside, or even the thoughts that enter my mind. Try this: Don’t think of a pink elephant. Did you have control over the image that popped into your head? Much of even our internal experience is out of our control, even when we believe otherwise.
This is where cultivating witness consciousness can be powerful. The witness observes everything—internal and external—with compassion and objectivity. It watches without judgment, whether I like what I see or not.
When I can witness my experience instead of being consumed by it, it creates space, which is one of the key ingredients of The Renegade Method, a transformative and embodied form of self-inquiry. That space allows for choice. Instead of being fear, I can observe myself feeling fear. This practice isn’t easy to cultivate, but when I do, intuition grows, and new possibilities emerge—ones I never imagined were available to me.
Another niyama is svādhyāya, which translates to self-study. By examining how we can—or struggle to—practice acceptance and courage, we gain insight into the obstacles that hinder us and the opportunities that lead to wisdom. This process deepens our self-awareness, strengthens our intuition, and helps us recognize our unique ability to engage with the world, our communities, and ourselves that is infused with acceptance, courage and deeply grounded wisdom.
Practicing Acceptance, Courage, and Wisdom
Sometimes, I am so immersed in my experience that I feel trapped. Can I accept that?
Sometimes, I can shift my perspective or integrate something that supports me—like a hug, time in nature, or simply pausing to connect with my breath. Can I summon the courage to lean into these resources instead of falling into old patterns of avoidance or rejection? Sometimes, I can witness my experience from a place of infinite love and compassion. Can I cultivate the wisdom to recognize these different states and allow my experiences to unfold—knowing that acceptance, courage, and wisdom feed into one another in an ever-evolving cycle?