One of the biggest aspects of surrender has become the questions I’m asking.
The majority of the questions I’ve asked over my lifetime hinted at life happening to me, instead of with me.
how come it turned out that way?
why didn’t I get that job?
why are they saying those things about me?
when is it going to be my turn?
where is my good?
There are still days where I rush to the comfortable thought of victim that allows me to take a pass on owning what part I played in the unfolding of it all.
Surrender scared me unbelievably and any time I see or hear someone asking new questions, I hold a mini-party for them on the inside, because I recognize just what kind of fears and feelings they had to look in the eye, to be so empowered.
There is the fear of somehow getting it wrong.
When it comes to asking new questions, we may feel empowered but there’s an inclination to lean towards the same questions we’ve always been asking.
What does surrender have to do with it? Everything.
First we have to lay down our fear.
We always have to lay down the fear but especially here.
Secondly, we must suspend our comfort with the familiar.
It’s setting down the thought that we know how to do this, so that we can learn a different way.
Holding onto that idea that we know exactly what we’re doing is the hardest thing to leave at the door.
There are things even now, that I have to take a deep breath before starting because I haven’t a single clue what I’m doing.
There’s no reason to be shy about that fact, either.
Shout it from the rooftops, laugh at the fumbles and stumbles.
If you took a dance class to learn to salsa, you wouldn’t go in expecting that you know every single move from the get-go.
Half the fun is the hilarious faces you can make while figuring it out, laughing at yourself when you realize you’ve created the genre of interpretive salsa dancing and putting on those sexy shoes or outfit that you’ve always wanted to shake it, in.
The alternative is taking the class and berating yourself for not understanding the steps the first time, closing off because you feel like you’ll look stupid for trying and giving up after two classes because you’ve grown a list of reasons why you’re not meant to dance like that.
The most important thing is that you dare to ask questions at all, though the questions you ask reflect the answers you’ll get and those answers are the beliefs you hold so close to yourself.
To live in a state of surrender is to admit that you don’t have the answers and are willing to risk a short term feeling of fear, so that you can know the world in a completely different way.
Some surrender Q’s to get you started looking for some A’s
How can I make the most of that situation?
Now that I have more free time because I didn’t get that job, how can I best use it?
What can I do to strengthen the bonds I have with my friends if I’m worried about them?
Who can help me figure this out if I don’t know the answer right now?
What can I do in the meantime, while I wait for them to get back to me about that?
How can I have fun with this?
What have I learned from this situation?
How can I be love right now? How can I be the most loving in my thought, word and action?
What do I need to know more about to get to the next step?
They’re big questions, true, but when you read through them here, they may not look all that intimidating.
The criteria I’ve given myself for asking questions like these is the following:
If it doesn’t give me a specific thing I can do right now that feels good, it’s time for a different question.
The Universe isn’t keeping track of the things you do perfectly and the things you’re still learning.
And it’s about time you cut that out, too.
Because it just ends up arguing for your limitation in the process.
And if I know one thing for sure,
It’s that we are all unlimited, infinite beings who at any age, can do it.
What questions can you start asking yourself?
On The Wings of Miracles,