Sometimes I wish the ideas would stop.

Okay, that’s not true. I love being filled with ideas. They roll over me, bombard me, catch me off guard, fill me with joy, scare me to death.

They come and they come and especially while going for a long walk along in the woods they seem like they will never stop. And it is this feeling of needing to do something with all of the ideas that can feel like too much.

Where should they go?

Do they hold meaning?

Can they be of use to others?

And so I write.

I let the ideas spill and stumble onto the screen and then sometimes I press send and they go out into the world.

And then all that is left is the waiting.

And this is where the surrender comes in.

Because in the end we each have to ask ourselves what our own definition of success is.

Is it quantitative? A dollar amount? An amount of views? An amount of comments? Getting to the end first? Being told we are the best?

This is what I’ve always hated about competition and why I refuse to participate in competitive events. Because someone wins and someone loses.

And only one person can win.

Only one person or team or group can be the ‘best.’

And as long as we’re trying to win or trying to get the most, we miss everything.

We miss everything in between starting and winning.

In many ways this is what mindfulness is—not missing the everything in between. Because there is another way to view success: being interested in the transformational affects of the everything that isn’t feeling like we’re the best.

The insight and epiphanies that come when we’ve tried and feel like we’ve failed bring to light a part of us we didn’t know still hurt. We get close up and personal with where we’re still not sure we’re acceptable.

And of course, perceived success can also bring to light a lot of neurosis, really everything can.

And that is the point.

Everything is an opportunity to see where we’re still expecting more from ourselves, where we still think we aren’t enough.

Everything we participate in has the potential to see this a little bit more and the seeing is the transforming.

So, it doesn’t have to be writing for elephant journal, this act of surrender. But elephant journal is one place that allows us to put our words out there and then just breath, knowing whatever we receive in the process is nutritious ammunition for our transformation and development.

And as my hand glides over to the send button right now I can sense that little bit of anxiety rising in my heart, saying maybe they won’t like this, maybe it isn’t quite right. And so I send some love back to my heart, even though that love in no way appeases the discomfort. And I know for the next hour I’ll feel a little anxious.

But I also know that whatever comes, if it is a response I perceive as ‘good’ or as ‘bad’ I’ll be able to use it for my own personal growth.

 

Relephant: 

The Sacred Act of Surrender. 

 

Author: Ruth Lera 

Editor: Renee Picard 

Photo: Cliff at Flickr