Endings, by their very nature, allow us the opportunity to reflect. What once served us now fades into the background for new opportunities to emerge. Oftentimes, this can feel stressful and uncertain. When the comfort of the past transmutes into the excitement of a new tomorrow hope becomes the catalyst to keep us moving forward. It’s easy to stay mired in the past because it is so familiar that we don’t have to use our spiritual and mental resources to navigate that which we already know. That comfort comes at a cost—the choice of living the safe life is weighted down by the ominous ticking of time that tallies our remaining moments on Earth.
For me, the past is being laid to rest. I have a wandering soul at the moment without any real direction moving forward. This is new to me; my compass is generally pointed in a direction and I tend to follow the arrow of destiny. Now, however, there is no direction to follow. No one needs me; no pressing concern calls for my attention; nothing waits on the other side of my arrival, wherever that might be.
Surrender is an interesting thing. It’s both liberating and frightening at the same time. It’s liberating in that by giving up control we become accepting to what is and yet it is frightening because we relinquish the idea that it’s possible that we can control the outcome of certain situation. Surrender and certainty are the yin and yang of life. Although certainty is an illusion, the idea of it is appealing. It tends to give us a sense of comfort that we have some power over the unpredictability of life.
I have considered lately that by surrendering to the ebbs and flows of life things that I would have never chosen to experience have the capacity to fundamentally alter the way I live life. By opening myself up to new possibilities I am simultaneously abandoning the essence of what makes me feel secure. Routine feels comfortable, but growth requires that we have feelings of discomfort on the way to change. Surrender is our partner on the journey to change; it is our traveling companion that urges us to trust a power far greater than ourselves.
By their very nature, endings require surrender. No matter how committed we may be to one journey ending and another beginning we still must have a sense of letting go of the old. Inevitably, there is always doubt and wonder in that little gap between chapters. Transitions can feel bumpy until we move far enough into the new chapter that the old doesn’t feel desirable anymore.
Beginnings and endings are a lot like faith and surrender; one cannot exist without the other. The exhilaration of a new beginning can only exist within the prism of the melancholy of endings. Letting go creates the environment for planting the seeds of change. We release that which has become stagnant to invite in new growth.
I write these things more for myself than the reader for this is my process while I experience the desire for expansion. All humans go through these phases and most times these experiences tend to feel lonely. We look back at our old life and see that the people from our past have continued on where we left off. Although our life may have changed, those that we know and love are proceeding, business as usual. This is what change looks like; it is the dissolution of the past and the evolution of the future all rolled up into one seismic life sandwich—ashes to ashes, dust to dust. All things must go through this cycle and the human being is not exempt from this experience. We must face change and in doing so find our passion, our humanity and our destiny.
I contemplate the future and envision a new reality enfolding. I feel like a leaf blowing in a windstorm, neither knowing where I am going nor knowing what I am going to do. Maybe, like the leaf, I don’t need to know. When we surrender control, we relinquish the desire for answers and open ourselves up to the majesty of the Universe. We take a big breath by deeply inhaling, then holding that breath while metaphorically holding on and then jump headfirst into the unknown. Then, we wait…