Radical acceptance and the power of “we’ll see” in 2025

Welcome to the first Truth for Teachers episode of 2025. I took December off from the podcast and social media, as I usually do, and now I’m back with an episode to set the tone for the new year.

The direction I want to take for 2025 is how to practice radical acceptance in a world that feels increasingly unpredictable.

It’s no secret that the past few years for our world—and certainly here in the U.S.—have been marked by uncertainty. Things we thought were stable have shifted. Plans we made were upended. Stuff we thought we could count on—norms that were upheld, things that we believed were dependable—got shaken up.

I’ve seen memes that say, “I wish we could live in precedented times again,” and I feel that, truly.

As we step into 2025, many of us are feeling the weight of not knowing what’s coming next. It may be on a geopolitical level, or with politics locally and/or nationally. The unpredictability might be centered on climate change and natural disasters, the future of schooling amidst all the challenges, the economy, or the way that AI is disrupting industries and making it difficult to predict what happens next.

The sense that our world is truly in uncharted territory in many ways can be deeply unsettling, especially for those of us who like to feel prepared and in control. One way I cope with anxiety is by planning for various outcomes: if this happens, I’ll do this; if that happens, I’ll do that. And right now, it feels like there are too many interdependent issues in which one variable can create a ripple effect that’s impossible for me to predict, and I can’t prepare.

So what can I do instead?

Here are a couple of things I’m reflecting on and experimenting with right now.

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Making the world a little smaller

Humans are not built to carry the weight of the entire world’s problems and to have minute-by-minute updates on every tragedy happening everywhere all the time.

So when everything feels too much, I first and foremost get offline. I stop reading and listening to all the noise and come back to my breath, my body, my home, my closest relationships, my local community, and the ways my actions have an impact here.

I can’t put out the wildfires on the West Coast, and I can’t single-handedly end the wars overseas. But I can show up in my local community as a kind, caring citizen. I can check in on my neighbors, especially those who might be struggling or feeling isolated. I can support local small businesses, choosing to spend my dollars in ways that help my community thrive.

I can volunteer my time and donate to causes I believe in. I can smile at a stranger, hold the door open for someone, or offer a listening ear to a friend who needs support. These might seem like small gestures, but they’re the building blocks of a more compassionate, connected world. When I focus on what’s within my reach, I remind myself that even small actions can create ripples of positive change.

Because while I may not have the power to solve the world’s biggest problems, I do have the power to make a difference in my own corner of the world. And that’s where real change begins—with ordinary people doing what they can, where they are, with what they have.

So when the problems feel overwhelming, try making your world smaller, and get off the news and social media channels for a while.

It’s taken me a long time to realize that it isn’t selfish to tune out bigger problems at times. Obviously, it’s a privilege to do so because it means I’m not personally impacted by those problems. But me being overwhelmed, depressed, and withdrawn doesn’t help anyone. Staying emotionally regulated, mentally balanced, and maintaining my physical health means that I’m not adding to the problems. I can offer solid advice and support because I’ve filled my own cup and have something to pour out.

Showing up as the best version of myself as often as possible means I’m not adding to the pain and suffering around me. I can be patient in traffic, for example, and not add to the escalating rage that the people around me might be feeling for much larger reasons than the traffic.

So for 2025, I’m making my world smaller and focusing on easing suffering and pain for others in the way I show up daily.

My word for the year is serendipity, and that actually ties in here a bit, because serendipity requires letting go of control and trying to fix everything myself, which is my tendency. That’s what I did in the early days of the pandemic, when my home in New York City was a place where we were surrounded by fear and death. Schools were closing, everything was switching to remote learning, and I had no idea how to help my teachers anymore. I felt responsible for coming up with solutions for things that one person can’t solve, and as longtime listeners of the podcast know, this led to a depressive episode that took me many months to dig my way out of with a lot of support as well as medication.

I refuse to give in to fear in 2025.

I refuse to track every single thing happening in government and freak out about it.

I resolve to act and not react.

I will stay informed and knowledgeable about what’s happening in the larger world, but the smaller, local, offline world is the one I inherently inhabit.

The rest is, in many ways, a choice. My choices have the biggest impact on me and the people closest to me. I’m protecting us, supporting us, lifting us up, working on behalf of us.

And that’s the lovely part about serendipity: I don’t have to have all the answers.

Observing without judgment

A few years back I did that podcast episode about the train leaving the station and heading for your destination rather than waiting around convincing everyone else to join. That metaphor served me well then, but right now, quite frankly, I don’t have a clear destination in mind. I don’t know where I’m going because it’s not exactly clear what the options are, and which ones are going to be best.

It’s like that Chinese proverb about a farmer whose horse ran away. His neighbors came to offer their sympathies, saying, “What bad luck!” But the farmer simply replied, “We’ll see.”

A few days later, the horse returned, bringing along a herd of wild horses. The neighbors exclaimed, “What great fortune!” Again, the farmer said, “We’ll see.”

Later, the farmer’s son tried to ride one of the wild horses, fell, and broke his leg. The neighbors called it a terrible misfortune, but the farmer’s response remained the same: “We’ll see.” Not long after, soldiers came to the village, drafting all the able-bodied young men for war. The farmer’s son was spared because of his injury.

That’s what this particular moment in human history feels like to me. What seems good might have bad outcomes, and what seems bad can have positive outcomes. Our world is getting increasingly complex, and it’s harder to discern the right choices because of how many other factors are impacted. (If you ever watched the TV series The Good Place, you might be thinking of Eleanor and Chidi right now.)

I don’t know where a lot of things are heading. And, I don’t have to rush to judgment about what’s good and bad, and react to everything happening. I can focus on staying calm and regulated, no matter what, and wait and see.

Leaving room for serendipity

The beauty of serendipity is staying open to possibilities. A serendipitous moment is not a planned thing: it’s the unexpected discovery of something wonderful—when you stumble upon a moment, opportunity, or connection that you weren’t actively seeking.

It’s when things align in ways you couldn’t have planned, reminding us that life can be full of delightful surprises.

And I see plenty of room for that in unprecedented times. Looking for serendipity allows us to practice the ability to shift our perspective. It teaches us to embrace uncertainty because we never know what unexpected blessings might come our way.

Maybe a last-minute detour leads you to meet someone who becomes a lifelong friend. Maybe an unexpected challenge sparks a creative solution you never would have explored otherwise.

When we stay open and curious, we invite serendipity into our lives. It’s a reminder that not everything has to be meticulously planned—sometimes the best things happen when we simply allow life to unfold.

You see, when everything feels uncertain, it also means anything is possible. The unpredictability that feels so daunting also holds within it a sense of opportunity. If we lean into that, we can begin to shift from a place of fear to a place of hope and creativity.

Radical acceptance

And that’s why I believe a turn toward radical acceptance might be just the ticket right now. I discussed this in episode 176 as well as in the new edition of my book Awakened: Change Your Mindset to Transform Your Teaching.

Radical acceptance is a term often used in mindfulness and therapy practices to describe the act of fully acknowledging reality as it is, without resistance or judgment.

Radical acceptance doesn’t mean you approve of what’s happening or that you’re giving up on change. It simply means you’re choosing to stop fighting against what’s beyond your control.

When you stop expending energy trying to control the uncontrollable, you create space for clarity and action.

Radical acceptance grounds you in the present moment, allowing you to see what IS rather than what you wish or fear it MIGHT be. And from that place of acceptance, you can move forward intentionally, focusing on what you are able to  influence.

So how does this apply to us as educators?

Right now, we might feel stuck in the tension of wanting to plan for the future while recognizing how quickly things can change.

But here’s the truth: we’ve always operated in a world of unknowns. Teaching has always required us to adapt and respond in real time.

We can practice radical acceptance by acknowledging, “Yes, things feel unpredictable, and that’s okay. I don’t need all the answers right now. I trust myself to handle whatever comes my way.”

This doesn’t mean we ignore challenges—it means we face them with a sense of calm and confidence, knowing we can navigate through uncertainty with grace.

Radical acceptance: How to deal with teaching frustrations you cannot change

Focusing on possibility

Once we accept that uncertainty is part of the equation, we can start to reframe it as a space for possibility.

If we don’t know exactly what the future holds, then we also can’t rule out the potential for good things to happen. We have the opportunity to shape that future—not by controlling every detail but by consistently showing up and creating the kind of world we want to see.

You might not know exactly how your students will respond to a new teaching strategy, but you can create a classroom culture that encourages risk-taking and celebrates growth.

You might not be able to predict what challenges will arise this semester, but you can build a community of support among your colleagues so that you face those challenges together.

This mindset shift isn’t easy, and it’s not something you can do once and check off your list. Radical acceptance is a practice. It’s something you return to over and over again, especially when things feel overwhelming.

When you feel yourself resisting reality, pause. Take a deep breath. Acknowledge what you’re feeling without judgment, and remind yourself that you have the tools to navigate whatever comes your way.

Here’s a simple practice to help you cultivate this mindset: each morning, take a few moments to reflect on two questions:

1. What is something I can release today—something I don’t need to control or carry?
2. What is one small action I can take to create the world I want to live in?

These questions help ground you in what’s within your control and remind you that even small steps can lead to meaningful change.

As we move through 2025, let’s commit to focusing on possibility.

Let’s not judge situations when it’s too soon to see the ripple effect and what’s good and bad.

Let’s release the limitations of black-and-white, all-or-nothing thinking of judging everything as good or bad, a positive thing or negative thing. Allow the nuance and paradox.

Let’s release judgment of the situation altogether, and practice radical acceptance.

Let’s choose to see unpredictability not as a threat but as an invitation.

Let’s keep showing up, creating, and building a future rooted in hope.

You can do this. We can do this. And remember, it’s not going to be easy; it’s going to be worth it.