The resisting mind — still processing the fact that the problem exists, that it should not exist — is not a clear instrument. It carries the weight of the protest alongside the weight of the analysis. Its solutions tend to contain the protest embedded in them.
The accepting mind — which has fully received the fact of the problem — has a different quality of access. It can see the problem as it actually is. Its solutions tend to be simpler, more direct, more effective — not because acceptance makes it smarter but because acceptance removes the noise that was preventing the available intelligence from working clearly.
The Zen tradition has a precise term for the intelligence that becomes available in non-resistance: Mushin — no mind, the empty mind. Not the absence of intelligence but the absence of the mental noise that interferes with intelligence. The martial arts masters who developed this as a fighting principle were making an entirely practical observation: the fighter attached to a particular outcome — who needs to win, who is afraid of losing — is fighting with a portion of their capacity tied up in the management of that attachment. The fighter fully present to what is actually happening has access to their full capacity, in the moment it is needed.
The practical test: identify the current situation you are most resisting. Complete the protest — fully, honestly, in writing if necessary. Then set it down. Then look at the problem with the eyes that are no longer fighting it. What becomes visible that was invisible from within the resistance?
Almost always: something simpler. Something that was there all along, waiting for the noise to stop.