Into the arms of surrender

Into the arms of surrender

You are awake at 12.53 am. 12.54 am…2.23 am…

Life is just not playing your tune. The heavens and all the gods seem to have packed up and left the building.

You toss and turn. “Why oh why?” you beseech to the silent heavens.

Of course, there is no answer.

This is the desert. This is the mouth full of sand, and the scorching heat and a yearning for water.

Your soul craves, craves water. Cool. Quenching.

But there is no water. There is no quenching.

From ‘why oh why’ you shift to ‘what do you want from me?”

The silence is consistent. Silent. Deeply, immovably silent.

You yearn for rescue. It’s not guaranteed.

Of course, I want to be rescued. Someone, someone, in the seen or unseen world, please save me?

And the silence remains. And the rescuer stays at home, where he belongs.

What do you do then? What do you do when all options are gone?

Do you give up, or do you surrender?

For one is a tragedy, and the other is humility.

Tired of trying, striving, keeping it together, you let go.

Completely. Into the arms of surrender.

Your will not mine. Your will not mine. Your will being the pattern maker of all patterns. Forever beyond reach or understanding.

Surrender. Into her arms.

Sleep comes. Peace comes. A death comes.

You surrender in to no-thingness.

And here you meet faith and hope. And without warning, the planets shift, the gods return from their picnic.

And you are once more purified in the flames of surrender.

Until we meet again. And so it goes on.

Written April 14th 2013

Photo Taken February 6th 2022, Article published February 6th 2026

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