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Bottom line up front: If you’re surrendering from a place of alignment, it will not feel bad. It will not feel like giving up. Not on yourself, not on your dreams, not on your becoming—which means your evolution, your greater expression of all that you are, your getting more of what you want. It will not feel like defeat—and you will not feel like a loser or a failure. It will not feel like a wet blanket, a rained-on parade, a burst bubble. It won’t even feel like losing your agency. The right kind of surrender, in fact, feels GOOD. It feels like RELIEF, like relaxation. Like contracted muscles softening, opening, dropping down. It feels like the blessed end of unnecessary striving—most often, letting go of what you can’t possibly control, what was never yours to control in the first place. It feels like a welcome-home, like coming back to yourself, back to your business. Back to what’s actually yours to manage, to control, to choose. That’s why SURRENDER—the good kind—cannot be all-or-nothing. Be careful with questions like, Should I hold on (to this WHOLE THING) or surrender (this WHOLE THING)? In that great ball of wax, there are disparate bits to sort through: weighty bits that you could put down and lighter bits with your name on them that you could hold onto firmly with (at least some semblance of) competence and ease. In the aligned surrender, you still get to have choices. In fact, you’ll have some decisions to make. The decision-making gets way, way easier once you’re deciding from a place of sanity, not trying to manage the unmanageable. When you’re not arguing with reality (as Byron Katie puts it), not pushing against anything (as Abraham-Hicks repeatedly reminds us NOT to do to have the best life and greatest ease and fullest power to create), then you can stand solid, relaxed and aligned, on a firm foundation of seeing and accepting reality as it is. From that foundation, you’re free to manage what’s yours to manage, and you simply keep letting go of the rest. I chose the phrase keep letting go very intentionally. It’s important, even crucial. I so often see super-smart human beings thinking in terms of pulling some plug to be done with something once and for all. Usually, their language betrays that they thought that would (or should) happen, as they speak especially in terms of still—as in, I’m still trying to convince the doctors to listen to me. I typically have my coaching clients reframe that in a heartbeat in session. Just BRING IT TO NOW. Just be with your impulse to grab the reins of someone else’s horse again, and get really good at putting them back down as quickly as you catch yourself. Correct it in the moment, not in the whole of how you operate. Hey, you do get to have a plug pulled sometimes, maybe from a powerful healing process or ritual; maybe through an epiphany or stroke of insight; maybe from a peak experience or some hellacious unwanted event that floors you and rocks your world, leaving you forever altered. But most of the time, the undoing, the reprogramming, the unraveling and rewiring—all involves what you notice now, pause with now, accept right now because it’s here right now. In that conscious pause, you can find where to surrender and where to assert or simply choose. In the now-moment, you make your best choice within your control toward what you want and who you want to be, now and now and now. and now and now and … So love, please don’t surrender out of a sense that you’re screwed and have lost all capacity to choose. In every situation or relationship or moment, there are areas of letting go and areas of holding fast. Let yourself feel the RELIEF of what you appropriately stop trying to control and the POWER and SATISFACTION of making all kinds of choices where they’re yours to make. In fact, don’t abdicate the choices that are yours to make. In a moment when you come close to where you do have agency, tune in: What’s important to you here? What do you want? (Not, what do others around you want or even want for you?) This is your life. What you can’t control in it is not your business, so do surrender that. But that surrender will not be absolute; most absolute surrenders involve giving up and failing to locate your right agency. Locate your business here and now and find your power to choose, to act, to stay true to yourself. My dear one, be(come) someone who knows when and how to surrender and be(come) the one who chooses your life. Love & blessings, Jaya Did you notice this post has an audio version? See button just under the title.
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Could it be there's no such thing as sacrifice? The more I ponder this, the more it all seems absurd unless there's lamb and blood involved. Some claims to sacrifice are transparently bogus, like—are you familiar with Project Runway? I was probably the last to know, but in case you're even less in the TV loop than I am, it's a reality show in which fashion designers fulfill a series of 24- or 48-hour challenges: make a party dress out of candy; make a high-fashion look out of flowers plus gadgets from a hardware store. Contestants (they're pretty adorable) represent a mix of straight and queer artistic types from various races and regions and even countries—so think accents, attitudes, affectations. Each episode culminates in a runway show with models presenting the designers' creations. Each time, one designer wins the challenge and one gets kicked out, so that the numbers gradually shrink until a final champion gets oodles of prizes. The show follows participants through sleep deprivation, ruthless competition, deadlines in swift succession, camera exposure during the uglies, and the ever-present threat of dismissal by judges who permit themselves the most scathing remarks (“It looks like she's pooping fabric”). Everyone's stuff comes up, emotions run high, drama prevails. But then, so do forgiveness and redemption, as contestants rally in mutual support over competition. Also, these people teach themselves they can do—in glorious and inspired ways!—what they weren't sure they were capable of doing at all. It's inspiring. Above all (and here's why I'm on this topic), participants have the huge honor of being one of sixteen, chosen from thousands who auditioned, to partake of this intense journey, experience the thrill of the challenge, get international exposure, and do what they love and are presumably good at in a seriously sought-after setting. Do I need to point out choice here? They choose to try out for this and are thrilled to be chosen by the judges. At some point in each season, there's always the moment when some (usually weeping) contestant, fearing they're about to be dropped or fiercely monologuing to the camera about why they must win at all costs, declares sacrifice: “I've sacrificed EVERYTHING to be here”; “I've made soooo many sacrifices for this show.” This is where I talk back to TV people. “You sacrificed NOTHING!” I yell. “You WANTED to do this more than anything else. Anything you did or gave up doing to be here was WORTH IT to you. It's a PRIVILEGE.” I might say these things gently to a client, but for some reason television brings out my evil-twin yelling coach. (My funny, sarcastic kid usurping the couch may be the reason.) I'm all for plugging in choice wherever you might catch yourself claiming sacrifice. I'm not fan of TV and have been an avid non-watcher my whole adult life. So is it a sacrifice to watch it with my fashion-fascinated kid? It's one of a handful of ways I've found to spend time with the current version of this ever-changing wondrous being. I got involved with Project Runway in particular because it's actually fun for me to watch, and we make the most of the banter it begs for. Before that, I watched the Bachelor with this same kid for a couple of seasons too (so much yelling at TV people!), then when I found I couldn't stand the utter idiocy going into round three, I stopped. Choice. With my younger extremely dyslexic kid, I choose to read aloud books about SWAT and military K-9 units and bombs—blowing-up stuff I'd rather blow off. Is this a sacrifice? Actually, it's pure love, and therefore pure bliss. I'm so in love with this character that I would—well, I'd sit around reading these things. If some handsome dyke showed up (say, a cross between Tig Notaro and—remember Grace Jones with a flattop?) and she wanted me to read those things aloud to her, I'd walk away thinking, Oh well, she sure looked good for a minute there. I bring up these parenting examples because people are notorious for claiming sacrifice as parents. I visited a bio page on someone's website and was stunned to find “self-sacrificing mother” in a string of positive descriptors. (I sat there for a fruitless moment looking for irony.) If you're not a parent, please keep reading: make parenting a metaphor for any realm of life where you might needlessly superimpose sacrifice. Anything you do as a parent, you do because you choose it. You choose it because it's what you most want for your child. You choose it because that choice makes you the kind of parent you want to be. I used to do without vacations and other dreamy things to have my kids in a Waldorf school. Sacrifice? Not a bit of it. I wanted my kids to spend half the day outside. I wanted them to card wool, carve wood, handle silk. All of this made me happy (whatever it did for them). It was a choice, and choice implies going for this and therefore not that. Do you want to claim you've sacrificed some that every time you choose some this? It's an option. Or you could feel great about choice. Contestants on Project Runway also love to talk about all their single mom or poor immigrant parents sacrificed for them, therefore they HAVE to win: they'll be letting their entire family down if they lose. Oh, the burden! They typically say this when they're in the top three, preparing for the final challenge, which takes place at the Rockefeller Center during the apparently famous (I'm sure I'd never heard of it before) Fashion Week. Really, sweetheart, if you've gotten that far, you can feel like a winner. Harsh, harsh reality if only one person gets to feel proud while everyone else has to disappoint their family. Harsh world where parents teach their kids they've sacrificed for them and the kids must now make it all worthwhile. Teach your kids you willingly do whatever you do for them. Teach them to become themselves, not that they owe you becoming who you want them to be. Teach them to give what they give with all their heart and no strings attached—by modeling this in what you do for them. Every once in a while (when I'm especially tired), I hear myself start to tell my kids all that I do in contrast to something they're not doing or haven't done (apples or oranges, anyone?). That's when I know it's time to course-correct, sort through my thinking, get crystal clear about my choices all over again. Am I giving more than I actually want to? Am I saying yes when I mean no? Have I gotten confused about what love is and what it isn't? (Is it time to go to bed?) Teach your kids excellent self-care and supreme self-honoring through your conscious choices and how you language your power to choose. I'm pretty sure we could go through at least three generations of erring on the side of teaching our AFAB (assigned female at birth) kids to prioritize themselves—choose for themselves over others when in doubt. I'm amazed when any human being believes they must cut off their own appendages to give others a hand up. It's a poor model for all concerned. Notice this false concept of sacrifice adversely affects the very ones it seeks to help, because it weirdly displaces responsibility to those receiving what's given (whether they asked for it or not!). Set yourself free and set them free by never saying such a thing again (ah, or correcting it when you do), and by holding a clear consciousness of choice. I've written before about cultivating a consciousness of choice to counteract victim mentality (chapter 22 of Scooch!: Edging into a Friendly Universe). You can't be a victim when you're in choice. When you're in sacrifice, though, victim is all you've got. Poor me, look at all I don't get because I'm being such a great mother (or whatever). You're no greater a mother/whatever than you choose to be. Choose well. Choose balance. Choose sometimes what's delectable just for you, just because you want it. And notice (drink in) all the joy and laughter and satisfaction you get from parenting these amazing beings in precisely the way you choose to parent. You haven't forgotten how badly you wanted this, have you? Are you a non-parent using this as a metaphor? Where do you sacrifice? See if you can plug in choice instead. See if it makes more sense and feels more empowering. Do you sacrifice to be in a couple? Oops—have a single friend remind you of the privileges, all you get that no part of you wants to do without, all the gains to you in consistently weaving it all together with that other seriously worthwhile (honestly, precious) human being. Do you sacrifice for the job? Wait, don't you want the prestige, money, reliable paycheck plus benefits? Do you sacrifice to be on the board? Are you kidding? Quit today! What if you called nothing sacrifice (except that bloody moment with the lamb), no matter how much you devote yourself with time, energy, skills, talent, money, or any and all resources? Do you want to give it or not? Choice is honest and clear and places responsibility squarely where it belongs. Choice is power. Between sacrifice and choice, every time, choose a consciousness of choice. Love and blessings, Jaya Still-life image of a jar glass jar full of blueberries with stray berries on the coarse wooden tabletop it stands on. From Margaret Jaszowska on Unsplash.
I thought about naming this Still Life with No Fruit Flies. That piece would begin, “You are not a bowl of bananas, apples, grapes, and clementines, so do not allow a swarm of fruit flies to quietly, almost invisibly, certainly peskily, swarm and hover untended.” You see why I chose not to do that. This piece begins with a story about a puppy who was starting to gnaw on a colorful, green-minded reusable grocery bag while a woman was working on a computer and harboring a strong preference to stay on the computer and focus. She didn't want to get up and deal with a puppy. And that fuzzy wiggle-worm of a puppy, with all that adorable cutlery in its mouth, had gotten its paws on that bag and was all over it. But the computer task … But the puppy, the bag … Add to this that the woman was working hard on not being irritated by things in her day-to-day life, with the greater goal of not feeling victimized by all the small and large things that happened to her while she struggled with what anyone would agree was a tricky set of circumstances. She wanted, in fact, to stop living a struggle. That's why—since change happens only now, and now, and now—she decided to make a decision. While she was half-annoyed, half trying to push through and keep working, her energy was divided. Part of her was swatting the fruit flies, and the fruit flies were swarming right back in, as they do. So she stopped for a moment. She stopped typing just long enough to say to herself, What matters more to me now is completing this task and feeling good about that. I'm going to sacrifice the bag to that endeavor. While I know this officially makes it a no-longer reusable bag, it also cost something like a dollar, and I'll get another one. The puppy will be blissfully busy destroying it and lying around in the rubble for probably just enough time that I can do what I want to do. And that was that. Before that moment, she was trapped in a swarm of fruit flies, and there was little to do in that scene but feel irritated and victimized (by a cute little puppy!—oh, the jailers we choose!). There there was the man running a new business who hadn't yet worked out that he wasn't the doer and hadn't yet mastered surrendering what's not his to deal with (like outcomes and timing and how much money will come in when). He didn't know how to feel great or good enough about managing only what was fully his and trusting that the rest is held, supported, and orchestrated by Universal intelligence. It's so liberating to simply show up for the next conversation, calculation, communication, or bit of research). What troubled our businessman was that he found himself carrying the business around everywhere he went, so that he forgets to be present in other realms of life and have real relationships with the people he loved. So work would come to mind constantly when he wasn't working. He would engage mentally then swat it away, then engage, then swat, the engage, then swat ... The fruit flies don't just go away no matter how much swatting you do. This man and I cooked up an experiment in which he stopped what he was doing when he found himself mentally riffling through work stuff off-hours. The new plan was to get up and just go work for a brief time. Quit swatting the fruit flies, and go be in actuality where he was mentally. Attend to some bit he wanted to (or thought he must) attend to, surrender the rest (again), then come back to presence in his home life. I invite you to run your own experiments. What could it look like to pause with the thing you're swatting at and choose to take a clear action toward addressing or releasing it? People feel guilty equally for not doing some odious task (pushing it away and continuing not to deal) or for engaging with some activity they love. I would love for everyone to DROP ALL GUILT. Don't allow the guilt to swarm around like fruit flies. Choose to give time to the things you love and get life-giving pleasure from. Choose it fully—no guilt. Or choose to do the task (in the kindest, most non-resistant way, most easeful way) and feel good about doing it. Or set yourself up to do the task at another, better time: carve out a slot for that on your calendar; take a moment to communicate with someone who can help or support you in the task—getting started, moving forward, or bringing it to completion. We can get stuck at any phase of a project, and there's no problem. No hovering guilt needed to get unstuck! Just the right action here and now (which could be just acknowledging this isn't the time and getting behind that), then a release back into the flow. Are you taking in the recurring theme of choice? When you let things hang there untended, like fruit flies, you're not in choice. You're not choosing what you want to do, what you want to give your energy to, what's calling you to pay attention and take action—something. What is it? Pause when you notice pesky, bad-feeling mental pests and make a choice. Your fruit flies could be pertinent to that moment or day, or they might point to never-ending bugaboos like clutter or taxes or that gizmo that doesn't reliably work—you might actually fix it or throw the thing out. Ah, but the fruit flies could also be in your face about the cherished dream you keep not getting to. Whatever it is, pay attention. Pause. Attend. Quit swatting the fruit flies and make a choice that actually moves them along. Love and blessings, Jaya (or Facing Any Big Life Change)This article appears in July of 2012 in the (amazing) Ithaca food co-op's newspaper, GreenLeaf. Because I wrote it for the co-op, the focus is on making dietary changes or dealing with dietary restrictions. Every one of the 20 points (even the one about snacks!) applies to anyone making or wishing to make any life change. Whether you've received some diagnosis (say, hypoglycemia, diabetes, or celiac disease) that requires a change in your eating habits, or you simply decide to experiment with food choices to see if a change of diet might give you a different experience (as I did — successfully! — with trying an anti-inflammatory diet to reduce pain levels), you may find the prospect of radical dietary change a daunting one. You may feel ill-equipped to face it. The concepts that follow can be applied to any realm of life, to any place where life invites you to step into change that scares you ... even as you see the greater well-being and better life such change may offer.
Here's another post on 6 tips for conscious eating. Here's a post with a cool process for leveraging changes made before to fuel the next change you'd like to implement into your life. I used food mindsets I changed to provide an illustration. |
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