Surrender [Clean.]

Sometimes we're starving for it.

Time alone.

With ourselves.

With our partner.

With our thoughts.

We hunger for a break.

For a breath.

For silence.


We're desperate to remember who we were.


Who was I before?

We wrestle.

We grieve.

We struggle.


And then somehow, through grace, we let go.

Surrender [Clean.]

We journey from resistance to surrender and let it all fall away.

From pushing and fighting what is, from trying to claw our way back into what was,

to peacefully laying back into today – eyes closed and smiling, heart filled with gratitude.



Only this.


We become.

We grow.

We embrace.

We allow. 

Surrender [Clean.]

We find peace in acceptance and our life blooms as we embrace today.





Just this.


We fall in love with the messy here-and-now and that dull hunger for something else subsides.

Surrender [Clean.]

And they grow.

Always they grow.

And each day we're blessed to bear witness.

And soon they, too, dream of a journey all their own.


And then they venture out into the world.

Without us.

Even if for a moment.


And that breath that we once hungered for so desperately falls silently upon us.

And suddently everything is new again.

And we try to recall what it felt like before.


And then we remember:



Always surrender.


Because again

and still

there is only this.


Ever-changing, ever perfect this.


8 thoughts on “Surrender.

  1. Cassandra says:

    Wow…this is so amazingly appropriate for me right now. Kids are away this week with family because I’m helping my husband through some medical stuff. This is exactly what I’m feeling. Thanks!

  2. Kelly says:

    This is beautiful. You are an amazing poet. I read your words (when time allows) and am always renewed. Surrender, allow, embrace: this resonates as we move on (fast at times) with our day, our week, our season. Thank you always for your words.

  3. Kate says:

    This a beautiful reminder of the power of acceptance and presence. I am thinking of the future after experiencing my very first power struggle with my daughter, 14 months old. Ahh, the growing up, the changes, and to be in the here and now is a gift to us both.

  4. Julie says:

    I needed to read this today. Thank you. I don’t usually read blogs, but I found yours a few months ago, and I find myself checking it for reminders…..signposts that lead me in the right direction when everything seems upside down and misplaced.

Leave a Reply