How to Know when to Surrender and What This Means

A misconception exists about managing our lives, especially if we use spiritual tools. The misconception is that everything should go “perfectly” all the time. We really know how to burden ourselves with such thoughts.

A spiritual approach to life (or any approach) is not about controlling everything; it’s about managing your energy no matter what. It’s about choosing how you experience the moments. If you understand you may stumble, your perspective and experience can be a better one.

I lived this when I recently house-sat for a friend, something I’ve done several times before. Though each time is different, there’s a mix of what needs to get done and a mini-vacation. It’s an understatement to say there are amenities: use of the Mercedes Jeep, Jacuzzi, fireplace, big screen TV and satellite, the huge house on two gorgeous secluded acres, the private beach, and more. Previous times involved around three hours of physical energy each day to take care of things that have to get done, sometimes a bit more, though I stay available for whatever 24/7, with the rest of the time my own.

This time, each day involved six to eight hours of physical energy, plus some of my own work . . .  Definitely not a mini-vacation for someone who uses her mind, not her muscles.

• The first five days, a young houseguest was there who had events in New York City every day; and I felt responsible that she returned safely every evening, which meant I never went to bed until she was back (we had delightful conversations in front of the fireplace).
• The first night a storm littered the yard and large koi pond with branches and debris, and uprooted a newly planted tree that blocked the driveway and street (my friend has tree staff that showed up thirty minutes after I called her and they saved the tree).
• There was a second storm the next day (I discovered after clearing debris after the first storm that yard guys appear and take care of this).
• The next day, a segment of the basement floor was covered with leaves (the guy with the leaf blower didn’t close the window), so I cleaned up.
• The following day, the same floor segment was covered with a LOT of bird feathers (lots of fun to sweep). A few hours later, I found the live bird, caught it with gloved-hands, set it free, and marveled the cats that stay down there let it alone.
• There was a surprise-to-me installation of five phones that caused me to sit with the dog for five hours so the technician could work (during this time, I read most of a book I’d brought). The phone guy had arrived in a cab and was grateful when I got him to the train station four minutes before the next train left (this saved him from a fifty-minute delay). I later found the same basement floor section I’d cleaned twice was littered from his working in that area.
• There were two nights out of ten the dog (with bark set on Loud) didn’t yelp frantically in the middle of the night at raccoons or nothing (I don’t do loss of sleep well and allow that part of my attitude was a result of this).
• I didn’t get every bit of work done I’d brought with me, but I got everything that was important done, including my scheduled calls.
• My friend needed to return a day later than expected, which moved my schedule back a day; but, we had a lovely visit when she returned. She treated me to a two-pound lobster dinner and sent me home with car service, a 1 hour-ride instead of the 2.5-hour train, subway, and walking commute I would have made with a heavy suitcase.

There was more, but you can see how even though unexpected stuff happened, good things consistently occurred, as well. I have to admit I had some inner struggle going on, all of it self-induced, of course. It’s so easy to slip into patterns of negative inner chatter when things “seem” to go awry.

Way of the Peaceful Warrior, the movie based on Dan Millman’s book, played the last day I was there. In one scene, Joy speaks to Dan months after his accident and says, “I know this is a scary time for you, but are you paying attention?” When I perceived how this line of dialogue felt in my body, I entered a state of inner peace.

This line was what my week had been about, especially since I swapped “scary” with “stressful.” There were times I’d paid attention to how my ego got rattled and I’d thought, “Watch your circuitry.” One day I walked around thinking the word “Peace” every time my self-chatter didn’t benefit me. My days at home (where I work) are, primarily, easily managed and orderly. During those ten days, I observed how flexible and inflexible I can be when not in my “controlled” environment. I noted the attention I pay and don’t pay to what and how, and how often.

On the seventh day, I told myself it was time to surrender; realized it was possible to make a list of things I chose to do each day and get them done, no matter what else happened; and, I surrendered the agenda of restful days and nights. This didn’t mean I gave up, but allowed the experience, observed myself amid all of it, and chose to flow and respond more often, rather than react (or gritch, which I did to some extent until watching the Peaceful Warrior movie). I allowed it had gone just as it should so I could learn something about myself.

Surrender, then, can mean to allow. It can mean to pay attention in a way that serves you. It can allow you to merge with events so you become the experience you wish to have.

Is there anything happening in your life at this moment you’re resisting? Are you willing to choose to learn about yourself through it? If it’s something you can change, do so. When you find yourself in situations you don’t have complete control over, surrender by paying attention. Shift it, if needed, and if you can; because when you pay attention, you feel your inner power grow in strength and peace. Then you can perceive and experience what’s going on around you differently.