Surrender
Back in the autumn of 2013, I experienced one of those big bright life moments that shaped me and will stay with me forever.
I was standing alone on an otherwise deserted beach in Los Angeles on a Monday afternoon. It was a period of life in which I was trying to gracefully navigate some big existential questions, and as I stood gazing at the constant waves I tried to be as quiet as possible so that I might be able to hear the answers. And then, in the midst of the bright LA sunshine and the salty ocean spray, it came to me in the form of one word: SURRENDER.
It was one of a precious few times in my life when I received the gift of a clear and direct message straight from the Universe (or whatever your spiritual worldview likes to call it). The message I received was a revelation, and I felt the full truth of it, and it changed me in a way that I will never forget. As I stood there facing the blue vastness of the Pacific Ocean, staring into the confusing expanse of my formless future, I felt a relieving sense of comfort and security that I hadn’t known I’d been missing for quite some time. I realized that I would need to let go, and that it would be alright.
Before I left that spot on the shore, I took this photo. Ever since, it has served as a direct reminder to let go and surrender to the current of life.
If 2020 has taught me anything, it’s that I am powerless in the face of those strong, ceaseless currents of life. Everything is connected, and it is all part of… something. However, from where I’m standing (right smack dab in the middle of my own life) I am too small to see the perfect intelligence of the patterns of existence. As I was just reminded in this helpful little video by Russell Brand, we as humans tend to grow miserable when we lose sight of a fundamental truth that:
”… there is a transcendent, nutritional, Pranic force that can nurture and hold us.”
In other words: whether or not we see it, we are continually and foundationally supported as we move through each and every moment of our lives. Even though it can seem like nothing is making sense, like right in the middle of this crazy year with its worldwide pandemic, rising threat of fascism on the national front, impending economic doom, and painful civil unrest. Many of us have had to say goodbye to our dreams and intentions, and far too many have lost so much more: their jobs, their homes, their physical and mental health, their lives. 2020 has brought some dark moments, and there will certainly be more struggle to come before it’s over.
This year, everything I'd planned and counted on — for work, for art, for fun, for my life— dissolved into a vacuum of nothingness. But in place of the all those experiences I’d been so looking forward to, I could eventually see something else in its place. For a long time, it seemed like nothing more than a ball of disappointment and unfulfilled dreams, a big blank void of dark uncertainty. But eventually it began to take shape with new forms that had the space and time to take root and grow. In the past few months, with all kinds of time on my hands, I was able to dedicate my efforts to being productive, learning, creating, and growing. Everything that led up to this moment has brought me to a point of being hungry for nature, quiet, serenity, clarity… the gifts of life that often get crowded out in a “normal” American existence.
Do I know what this is all for? Do I know that things will eventually get better, or that they won’t get a lot worse? No, I don’t. But I do have faith that things will be exactly what they really are, and there is nothing I can do that could change that. My job in life, I feel, is to find a place of ease in the here and now, to move forward internally and to do my best to stay aware in the present. Sometimes it’s hard not to feel deeply sad for all that I am missing— I have my moments of panic when I feel trapped in an unfulfilled life, that I’ve failed, that I can’t reach my destiny, and that the potential of my best years is escaping me. But then I realize that all of that is just noise in my own mind, and that I need to refocus my perception in a way that reminds me that I am not a solitary figure trying to fight an upstream life battle on my own; rather, I am part of the very fiber of life, connected to everything and everyone that was, is, and will be.
As I write this, it’s the middle of August and the summer is winding down. The deeply green and luscious plant life is accompanied by the unmistakable sound of late-summer cicadas. A new set of transitions is right around the corner, and there is no way of knowing what the upcoming seasons will bring— it sounds like a cliche, but right now it really is profoundly true. Nobody knows what’s going on these days, or what is going to happen in the weeks and months ahead, if things will get better or worse— and the space the space between the two is much greater than usual. I realize that to fully surrender means releasing my attachments to my hopes for the future, as well as my idea of what life should be like. It occurs to me that my energy should be focused on feeling grateful for all that I do have, and to dedicate myself to a daily practice of grounding in the present moment. (Currently, this breezy little YouTube channel is helping me with both of those things.) It means that as long as I’m “stuck” here in the house, I have the unparalleled opportunity to finally get my “house” in order. It feels like I’m preparing myself for the future I want to intentionally create according to my deepest desires… but what if that future never arrives? Something tells me that if I’m doing a good job of letting go and staying in the present just the way it is, it won’t matter so much what happens at all. I’ll be ready to receive the future that I couldn’t have possibly had the brilliance and creativity to dream up myself. Only the Universe could know what’s in store.
Image still from The Sopranos