As I explored my new neighborhood with a walk through Montana de 'Oro State Park, my thoughts led to the practice of surrendering. This was my second move in three years and very, very different from the first.
The first move was at the end of a marriage I thought would last forever, and leaving a home I thought we'd enjoy forever. It was during that painful time when I finally learned - nothing lasts forever. Not the bad, not the good. Life is constantly changing. We can either surrender to the continual process of change, be flexible and adaptable, or we most certainly will perish or be held prisoner of our past with our unwillingness to let go.
This second move, also not by my choice, the homeowner's sister was taking over the house where I lived, was a much different experience than the first. I started asking myself what amazing new experience would come from this opportunity to move. This is not to say I didn't have moments of wishing I didn't have to pack up all my stuff and find a new place, but those moments were infrequent - and when I did have those thoughts I surrendered to them. I honored the feelings that came up, gave them some space and time and then ushered them out of my mind gently. I then welcomed in thoughts of positive expectation, curiosity and trust to elevate my mindset to the infinite possibilities available to me for the dreaming, the asking and the doing.
I found a new place half the size of where I'd been living but with an expansive view that would be inspiring for my writing; exactly what I asked for from the Universe. So I took on the task of surrendering many 'things' leftover from my previous life. Sometimes surrendering happens slowly with reluctance and then there are times it comes all at once as we toss things aside gleefully while running toward the unknown with open arms, a joyful smile and a light spirt.
Surrender is the theme of the season of Falling, in the transformational book I'm creating, "Soul Garden Healing - A Seasonal Guide To Healing From Heartbreak." When my life fell apart and pieces of my soul fragmented and shattered with grief, I didn't want to surrender to the process of grieving. I didn't want to feel it, fearing it would consume me. And at times it did - one time in particular where I just wanted the pain to go away forever.
Now, looking back, I believe there's a difference between giving in to the pain, like I did, and surrendering to it. With surrender, we stand tall and acknowledge it is our choice to wave the white flag of surrender, that we are allowing ourselves the time and space to mourn, to sob, to hide under the covers. Giving in slumps forward with her head down in defeat, she feels powerless, diminished and out of control. Surrender is aware of her current situation knowing it is not permanent and gives herself permission to feel her emotions fully, she allows herself to feel, express and release. Surrender opens her arms, palms facing up, letting go of the grip she held onto the past and has faith she will receive the healing she needs.
Surrender knows life is always changing and she goes with the flow.