One day you decide to surrender.
You’re doing okay but you read about it, and it sounds pretty cool.
So after meditation, after yoga, after affirmations, after all this impeccable spiritual behavior you’ve shown and after therapy and all the happy books, it’s time.
Surrendering to life.
So there you go, sitting on the couch.
‘Okay life, sorry that I behaved like such an arrogant piece of shit all this time, but that was the old ignorant me, things will be different from now on I promise, here’s the new and surrendering one, HI!’
And you sit on your couch and work on your surrendering and wear a stupid smile on your face.
You sit and wait and feel and wait some more.
You close your eyes, open your arms, and, well, you surrender.
At least that’s what you’re trying to do.
But the thing is: surrendering is not really something you do.
It’s not an activity, a specific set of movements, a thing of form.
It’s not something that gets you anywhere in time, a better place, a better you, because that would make it conditional which totally contradicts the whole idea.
It’s like a decision, made by the heart.
Surrendering is something that comes from a realization.
It’s a clear recognition of the sum of all your tension, your tightness and your fucked up stories, this miserable ball of energy, and in that recognition, the surrendering happens.
It’s like dropping something because you realize you never really held it in the first place.
It’s more like a non-engaging.
Like doing nothing.
Which is also not an activity.
Sounds complicated and paradoxical?
(Photo by @lovejoypassion, for Unsplash)