[ab-di-keyt]  
 
verb
 
1. to renounce or relinquish a throne, right, power, claim, 
responsibility, or the like, especially in a formal manner:

King of the Black Isles – Maxfield Parrish 1907

 

It is customary to imagine that giving things up is unpleasant. That to deny ourselves something is necessarily disagreeable. I have been thinking lately about renunciation and its many inherent virtues.

I hinted at some of this back when I spoke about abstinence  and even, in some ways about being biddable : giving things up has many advantages.

Responsibility comes with its own special set of privileges, to be sure, but so too does it incur collateral duties. Accepting anything –  a premise, an honor, a gift – makes incumbent upon the recipient a whole host of requirements; adherence to principle, humility, gratitude.

To my mind the reverse may also then be implied; to relinquish or renounce these things eliminated their concomitant constraints. It is this notion that appeals most to me; if I am able to shed the ideas and actions that have failed to serve me, so too am I freed of the burdens they have set upon me.

Hereby, I abdicate:

~The notion that I must apologize for being myself.

~The doctrine that I must prove my worth.

~The sense I lack anything to be complete. 

~The idea that I cannot trust my instincts.

~The temptation to believe anyone knows better for me than I do.

~The belief that my value is predicated on anyone’s opinion but mine.

Conventional wisdom tells us giving up is easy, and has no reward. I think in my case, the reverse is true. So, I struggle to surrender, for limitless recompense.