There comes a point when you shouldn't give up, but you need to let go. That point is sharp, like a cosmic bayonet, and it pricked me good last week. That's when I decided to finally surrender.
First there are tears. Tears are necessary, but being broken or crumpled on the floor in heaving sobs is not. That’s optional. Sometimes, it’s helpful, but it's not a requirement.
Stillness is key. Let yourself and the room be quiet. Peaceful. Light a candle if you have the energy. Sit in the dark if you'd rather. Then, take a breath, open up and say, “I surrender.” Repeat as necessary.
At first, your mind will still race, fear will take hold. When that happens, say, “Stop. I surrender.” Let go of all that you were holding on to. The worry, the fear, the pain. Say those words each and every time your mind starts chattering. When fear creeps up on you, brush it aside and remember that you’ve surrendered. And breathe.
The thoughts, the endless thinking, the living in your head is not keeping you from sinking; that's what drowns you. When you surrender, you float. You are buoyant. When you surrender, you are in the moment and only the moment. That’s all you have. That’s all there is. Soon, you find that your mind has grown quiet. And you realize how nice that silence is. Occasionally, another negative thought or feeling of dread might come. By then, you know what to do. You’ve surrendered. There is no need to figure anything out. Life will unfold on its own. All you have to do is let it.