To surrender is to acceptThese are words by Marion Woodman from Coming Home to Myself, a gift from a friend who understands the mysteries of change better than I.
life as it is:
winter today, spring tomorrow;
cruelty with beauty;
aloneness after love.
I do not easily surrender, nor often. I want control. My mind knows when I use my determination to stop a leak in the wall of control surrounding me, another leak will soon begin at my back. My mind knows my thin wall of control can easily crumble allowing a flood to rush over me. I am afraid I won't be able to swim. So, despite what my mind knows, I white-knuckle to maintain control.... over what I eat, over my surroundings, sometimes over my friends and family.
I don't want to admit that last week I tried to control a friend. I wanted her to come to my studio for a "sewing day." She said she didn't feel well. I wheedled and whined. She said, "You're twisting my arm." I said, "Yes, but I really want you to come." She didn't. And she hasn't replied to my email messages, including one where I acknowledged my fault and apologized.
I also don't want to admit that last week I tried to influence my sister to do something. She said she was tired. I pushed. She didn't do it.
Ten Things I Can't Control
- my genetic makeup
- my past experiences
- my eating
- the weather
- the world's population growth
- my husband
- my sister
- my friends
- everything else
Is to surrender to have no influence? To surrender must I allow the flood and the dark to push me down? What if I cannot surface again? Nature knows all about control and surrender. The dog rolls over and shows his belly. The flooded river recedes. Must I then surrender my will? And if so, how?
Let go. Breathe. Stay in the moment. Someone said, "Be where your hands are." Breathe. Let go. Trust. Forgive. Breathe.