The Surrender

Speechless

Photo Credit: imgfave.com

Maybe, you noticed that I have not written very much lately.  Maybe, you didn’t notice at all.  Either way, that’s okay, because I did both.  Some days, I was acutely aware of the lack of content being launched into cyberspace, and some days, I ignored it completely.

When I was aware of it, I alternated between feeling overwhelmed and anxious by this unplanned stepping away from blogging to not caring if I ever returned at all.  At least, I told myself that I didn’t care, but that was a convenient lie that I concocted to assuage my guilt.

There are no less than half a dozen blogs that I have written repeatedly on the pages of my mind that are waiting to be called onto this literary stage in my own theater of the absurd.  They were patient with me at first, but their patience is beginning to wear thin.  Cue today’s blog.

When the pages of this blog remained blank day after day, it was merely one of many red flags that waved furiously trying to get my attention to alert me to the dangers that  awaited me, should I ignore them.  Not physical danger, but a different type of danger that is real nonetheless.  As the red flags began to pop up in various areas of my life, I continued to ignore them, in the hopes that they would magically go away.  I did this, until two weeks ago, when silently, solitarily, and humbly, I  heeded the red flags and unfurled a white flag.  I surrendered.

Surrender has gotten a bad rap for being synonymous with quitting or giving up, and I have been a prolific singer of said rap.  I have been hard pressed to fully understand the concept of surrender and have railed against it.  Until I couldn’t.

As I sat in a fetal like position in a well-worn chair in my living room two Sundays ago, without intending to, I surrendered to the red flags in various areas of my life.  I acknowledged that what I was doing, or not doing as the case may be, was not working.  The danger of letting my life continue to run me ragged, as opposed to living the life I have imagined, was real indeed.  It was time to save myself from living a life that wasn’t my own any longer.

This process is definitely ongoing and comes with a learning curve.  In some cases, the change that was needed involved returning to a tried and true method that had led to previous success.  In other cases, it meant doing something new altogether.  Still, in other cases, it meant tweaking an existing way of doing something.  I surrendered to the fact that my way of doing things was not working and that some people and things need to be accepted as is, but I did not surrender the notion that I need to be a more active architect of my life’s work and foundation.

Returning to writing is coming back to something I love and that makes me feel happy in an indescribable way.  When I write, I am fully present and aware of who I am, and that is a powerful feeling that I want more of in my life.  So, after having so much to say and feeling like there is no way to say it, I came back to the space that I created nearly five years ago.  It feels like coming home to myself.

Like all of the other changes and edits I have been making lately, it is another way to enjoy the present, while creating a life of meaning and of dreams come true.  Now, that I have addressed the silence, the words can flow freely.  So, they shall . . .

That’s another story . . .



Categories: That's Another Story

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6 replies

  1. Welcome back Kristi!! I definitely missed you!

  2. I look forward to your words!

  3. And you have a way with words.

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