A Course in Miracles with a Wink and a Smile
There are moments when life serves you something so absurd you just have to laugh—or cry—but laughing burns fewer calories. Maybe the toaster dies right after you buy bread. Maybe your cousin shares another “miracle cure” on Facebook. Or maybe someone cuts you off in traffic, and you’re tempted to give them a Course lesson they’ll never forget.
And then that little phrase bubbles up: “It is what it is.”
Depending on your tone, that can mean one of two things: enlightened acceptance or mild defeat. If you add “Get over it, princess!” you’ve officially crossed into the realm of sarcastic surrender—the kind that sounds holy but still has ego glitter all over it.
But don’t worry. The Holy Spirit can work with that.
Acceptance for Beginners (and Drama Queens)
The Course tells us, “Seek not to change the world, but choose to change your mind about the world.” (T-21.in.1:7) Which, loosely translated, means: stop trying to control the uncontrollable. You can’t fix everything, and you weren’t supposed to.
Acceptance doesn’t mean apathy. It means understanding that arguing with what is—past, present, or future—is like shaking your fist at gravity. You don’t need to like it, but you might as well stop fighting it.
Let’s be honest, though. Most of us don’t jump straight from outrage to inner peace. There’s usually an awkward middle stage where we roll our eyes and mutter, “Fine, it is what it is.” That’s okay. Even reluctant acceptance is progress. You’ve moved from total resistance to a faint willingness not to hurl something.
And according to A Course in Miracles, willingness is all Heaven ever needed to start the cleanup crew.
The Ego Hates “It Is What It Is”
The ego runs on resistance. Its favorite fuel is the thought, “This should not be happening.” Whether it’s a delayed flight, a rude cashier, or someone mispronouncing your name for the hundredth time, the ego wants to file an emotional complaint with Reality Management Inc.
The Course puts it bluntly: “What you resist persists.” (paraphrased principle found in T-7.VII.1:4) Because when you resist, you declare that the illusion is real—and that it has power over your peace.
The ego adores that game. It gets to be right, miserable, and dramatic—all before lunch.
So when you say “It is what it is,” you’re basically unplugging the ego’s power cord. You’re saying, “Nope. Not playing today.” Of course, the ego hates that. It wants you to add conditions:
- “It is what it is… but it shouldn’t be.”
- “It is what it is… until they apologize.”
- “It is what it is… but not if I have Wi-Fi.”
Sorry, princess—acceptance doesn’t come with a refund policy.
Holy Spirit: The Original Chill Coach
The Holy Spirit doesn’t roll His eyes when you complain. He’s the cosmic version of a patient life coach who listens, nods, and waits for you to finish your rant. Then He gently says, “You done?”
When you finally exhale, He slips in the truth: “You can be right, or you can be happy.” (T-29.VII.1:9)
The Course reminds us that peace isn’t something the world gives—it’s something you uncover when you stop arguing with reality. That’s what “It is what it is” really means at its core. It’s the moment you put down your sword and stop trying to edit God’s screenplay.
You may not love the current scene, but you can trust the Director knows what He’s doing.
The Princess of Perception
If you’ve ever been called dramatic, welcome to the club. The ego thrives on theatrics. It tells us the world is a tragedy and we’re the misunderstood star.
The Course, in its less glamorous way, says otherwise: “I am never upset for the reason I think.” (W-pI.5.1:1) Translation: You’re not angry because the line was long—you’re angry because you wanted control and didn’t get it. You’re not hurt because of what they said—you’re hurt because you believed it could define you.
So yes, call yourself “princess” if it helps. Just make sure you’re the right kind of princess—the one who finally realizes the dragon isn’t real.
When you remember that, your crown straightens, your shoulders relax, and you stop waiting for the fairy tale ending. Because you see it now: this is the fairy tale—the part where the heroine wakes up.
Laugh First, Learn Later
The Course doesn’t require solemnity. It actually says, “Laughter heals because laughter acknowledges the falsity of fear.” (T-27.VIII.9:3 paraphrased)
So when life throws a tantrum, you’re allowed to laugh. You can giggle at the absurdity of trying to control the weather or another person’s opinions. Humor is the ego’s kryptonite—it can’t survive in the same room as joy.
Here’s a secret: Heaven’s already in on the joke. Every time you take the world too seriously, the angels probably sigh and say, “She’ll get there.”
The Soft Side of “Get Over It”
Now, let’s tone down the sass for a second. “Get over it” sounds harsh until you realize it’s just shorthand for “Don’t let this define you.” The Holy Spirit says it more gently: “Nothing outside you can hurt you.” (T-18.V.2:1)
That’s not denial—it’s empowerment. It’s remembering that peace doesn’t depend on circumstances. You don’t need the world to behave before you can relax. You just need to stop auditioning for the role of “victim in a cosmic soap opera.”
So yes, something went wrong. You’re human. It’s fine to feel it, grumble a bit, and then choose again. The Course isn’t asking you to suppress your emotions—it’s inviting you to reinterpret them. You can still sigh, roll your eyes, and mutter, “It is what it is.” Just make sure you follow it up with, “And that’s okay.”
The Royal Practice of Letting Go
So how do we turn this slogan into a spiritual tool? Try this simple three-step process:
- Acknowledge what’s happening.
“Okay, this situation is here. Pretending otherwise won’t help.” - Admit you don’t like it.
“I hate this—but maybe I don’t have the full picture.” - Ask for a shift in perception.
“Holy Spirit, show me how to see this differently.” (T-21.in.2:1)
That’s not passivity—it’s mastery. You’re trading control for clarity.
And when that moment of calm sneaks in, when your shoulders drop and your breath evens out, you’ll hear the echo of Heaven’s humor: “See? You’re fine. You just forgot Who’s running the show.”
The Punchline
“It is what it is” isn’t a spiritual cop-out. It’s the ego’s eviction notice. It’s the gentle art of saying, “I’m done making drama out of illusions.”
And “Get over it, princess”—if said with a smile—can actually be a friendly reminder that you’re royalty in disguise. You were never meant to crawl through the muck of grievances. You were meant to rise above them, adjust your crown, and laugh your way back to peace.
Because in the end, A Course in Miracles sums it up far better than sarcasm ever could:
“What could you want forgiveness cannot give? Do you want peace? Forgiveness offers it.” (W-pII.122.1:1-3)
So, take a breath. Put down your emotional sword. Roll your eyes if you must, then grin and say it one more time—this time with love:
“It is what it is.”
And maybe, just maybe… that’s the holiest thing you’ll say all day.
robert@dinojamesbooks.com