Surrender
Surrender (Merriam-Webster)
: to give oneself up into the power of another : yield
Look up quotes about surrender and you will find that 98% of them are of the “never surrender…never give up” variety. While that axiom is important in reminding us to keep going during times of struggle, it also holds up back from true healing. Consider this:
When we are tired and feel like we need to keep going, we deny ourselves a chance to rest. We are praised for our strength.
When we are sad or grieving, we feel the need to compartmentalize and to keep moving rather than feel our feelings. We are praised for our fortitude.
When we struggle with pain and adversity, we feel the need to trust in a higher purpose and keep fighting the good fight. We are praised as warriors.
These are all admirable qualities that are part of the toolbox we use for navigating life. But they are not the only tools. They are the tools that society have valued as strengths. Somehow, we have deemed that stopping to rest, feel, and let go are signs of weakness. They show that we can’t handle life itself.
But the true story is that feeling our feelings is the bravest and scariest choice we can make. It is also the only way to true healing.
We have been taught that feeling our feelings is to touch the third rail of life…we don’t touch it because we are afraid that it will kill us. Think of all the messages, conscious or subconscious, that we use to stuff our feelings underneath.
It is too hard.
It is too much.
I don’t want to get stuck or be perceived as wallowing in sadness.
I will just tuck these feelings away and it will all be ok.
I don’t want to/can’t face this. Not now.
I must protect others by seeming that I am ok.
This morning I came to the realization that I have been in a recent cycle of managing my emotions, my body, and my situation. I proactively had been trying to manage my healing. This is an admirable step because it means that I am trying to take care of myself. But nothing was working. My body kept screaming at me from every direction. My soul felt weary. My mind raced with every headline. I have been in a constant loop of feeling (a sensation), noticing (what’s happening) and managing (quickly trying to control it). Because it wasn’t getting its needs met, it wasn’t going away. And if my mind wasn’t going to pay attention, then my body was the next best target.
When I got caught up in a whirlwind of thoughts this morning about the demise of this planet and my chest tightened, I stopped suddenly and asked myself what I was ultimately afraid of from these stories. Was it dying? The word that popped into my head was “suffering”. I quickly realized that I am not afraid of things ending, I am afraid of the suffering and loss along the way. Of not being able to protect the ones that I love. Of pain and deprivation. Of profound loss and sadness. As soon as I saw my truth, I could see the part of me that was feeling deeply afraid and unprotected. I had locked her deep inside and she was screaming to get out. She has been having lots of tantrums lately and I had been trying to manage her away.
What I needed to do was let her out. Let her be seen, heard and felt. I needed to let myself feel my fear. I decided to meditate and create some space for her. I put on one of my favorite meditation tracks, hit the mat and just let go. I wept throughout and just allowed myself to release what had been trying to emerge. To let the tears cleanse my weary soul. And guess what? While it didn’t make the problems of the earth magically disappear, I didn’t sink into darkness. I didn’t get stuck in the emotions. I just allowed them to come up and out at their own pace. I felt deeply supported by my spiritual team and by my own higher self. I arose from my meditation feeling tired, but balanced. Calm and able to better hear my internal compass.
This has been a long journey towards my feeling safe enough to feel my feelings at all, let alone outwardly. I have had an incredible support system that has helped me to get to this point. To teach me how to fall apart in order to become whole. It is what I wish for you. That my words can be part of the journey back to who you were before the world told you to tuck those feelings away. I hope that my journey can give some comfort to you as you find the courage dig deep and know that I am here to witness your courage with love and compassion.
