Monday, August 21, 2000

One of the themes in many spiritual traditions is that of surrendering control. To stop trying to make the world bend to our will, and allow the universe to unfold - to go with the flow.

Yet, as I think about the stresses in my life, it strikes me that when I feel the most out of touch with myself is when I feel like I have no control. I've been thinking about how to reconcile this seemingly conflicting advice.

I think that we really are out of control when we are working hard doing everything we "should" do - when we are being run in circles by society and our own demands to live a life that we think will make us happy, yet we find that we're still dissatisfied in. It's so easy to get into a rut with our lives, to not think about whether our relationships are really healthy for us or just comfortable, whether our career is fullfilling rather than just a means to security.

Giving control in a spiritual sense, to me, isn't at all about giving myself over to anything in a patriarchal sense, but is really about taking control of my life and living it to the fullest. Taking responsibility and making the choice to be mindful - to stop and eat lunch silently, really tasting every bite - to stop and be still, listening to the birds, the breeze, what my body and feelings wish to speak to me about - to make the choice to let go of anger and hard feelings; to choose mindfully not to speak harshly when someone annoys me, but to recognize my annoyance as an issue I need to work on, and release the other person from blame.

It seems, that surrender then, becomes a mindful action - a choice to take control from the pre-conditions imposed upon me, and to live an authentic life - allowing the world to unfold, engaged in what will support me and help others, rather than mindlessly running a rat race of "I shoulds".

Well, tomorrow is the big day - I report to the hospital at 5:30 am, and surgery starts at about 7:30 am. Tonight as I meditate, I'd like to contemplate control and surrender. As they wheel me into surgery, I hope that I will be at peace - living fully in the present, neither in the control of myself and my pain to be "good" in the way that is expected, avoiding those realities - nor in the control of fear and pain, suffering because I trust them more than my own heart.

It's not about trusting that everything will be ok - but trusting that my heart can make the choice to open to what lies ahead - to experience it in the grace of peacefullness.