The important thing is to be able at any moment to sacrifice what you are for what you could become. – Charles Dubois

You may have noticed that I took a little break from my blog. I’ve been focusing on other writing projects and designing classes to teach Cacao Ceremony both as a personal practice and for group offerings. I’d been asked many times to teach and always resisted it for various reasons (all of them quite lame). When I recently decided to commit to “everything cacao,” which was a message I received on a drum journey over two years ago, it made perfect sense to surrender to this too….
The beautiful thing about surrender is that when you finally do, that’s when things actually show up. Giving up the struggle allows the struggle to end. It’s so simple and obvious, and yet so hard for us to do. Surrender is not giving up or retreating; it’s both release and commitment, letting go and moving toward. It’s truly a paradox.
Until one is committed there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back…. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elemental truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. – W.H. Murray
Releasing and letting go means being honest with yourself about what’s not moving with ease and flow in your life, work or relationship. It shouldn’t have to be so hard. I’m declaring that one out loud. If we aren’t fully in alignment with who we are, haven’t fully embraced our gifts, and aren’t fully reading, accepting and acting on the signs that spirit brings us, then, life is hard.
What do I mean by fully? Let me start by defining what it doesn’t mean; it’s not partially or somewhat or sort of. That’s neither fully in nor fully out. To put it bluntly, it’s not half-assed, not that I have anything against donkeys; they’re actually kind of cute, but rather stubborn. Fully means completely.
Life feels hard because we live in a state of resistance, ashamed of or not fully embracing our uniqueness, and not willing to wave our “freak flag high” (I borrowed that phrase from a friend who does it every day). When you’re being a donkey instead of a unicorn, it’s soul destroying.
Commitment and moving toward something means allowing for its unfolding: encouraging, revealing and responding to something in stages at the appropriate moment. Some cynics and critics claim “unfolding” is too passive and even wishful thinking. I beg to differ. An unfolding requires active engagement. A flower just doesn’t sit there and wait for the grand unfolding to happen; it grows up and out, responding to cues from the sun, the rain and the moon. It is engaged in its own glorious unfolding.

The process of unfolding is always evolving and changing. Instead of waiting for a magical unfolding or grasping at and forcing the unfolding, both of which are full of internal and external struggle (I can feel the tearing), we must find ways to be adaptable and resilient, weathering the elements, but first we have to give up the struggle. If we don’t let go, the struggle tears us apart.
I had been resisting the “everything cacao” message I received. While cacao was a big, powerful and beautiful part of my work, it was not my “everything.” Without that commitment, my work was unfocused, leaving me exhausted and feeling torn apart. I decided to give up the struggle and fully embrace and commit to cacao as my everything. I still don’t quite know where it’s going to take me or how it will all unfold, but I feel lighter and life doesn’t feel so hard. I’m following the signs that are showing up with full attention and intention. I decided to be a unicorn. What’s your everything?

I do not understand the mystery of grace–only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us. – Anne Lamott

So, what awaits after surrender…? The unknown. Scary stuff for those of us who always want to know; for those who need to be fully in control; for those who struggle to have faith in themselves or in life itself. At some point in my life, all those control scenarios were me….
The unknown shows us who we truly are. It teaches us to be adaptive, creative, resilient; to be accepting and forgiving of ourselves and others; to be at peace and to love unconditionally; and it allows us to experience the pure joy of being in a constant state of wonder. We can ask from this place of unknowing: I wonder what’s going to happen next? I wonder who’s going to come into my life? I wonder what my clarity and light will attract?
For the longest time I had no idea what surrender really meant. It was only when I had to let go of so much in my life over more than a decade–a career or two, a long-time relationship, a home several times over, my native land (my Canadian readers will get this), all my furniture, my ego, my shame, many of my fears and more–and thought I was relatively “unattached” that a chasm swallowed me whole, and I had no choice but to surrender completely.
What I did not realize at the time, but do now, is that I was experiencing another dark night of the soul. The first one I experienced was merely a prelude, and one that I willingly chose as I dove into the waiting embrace of Mama Cacao. The second one came out of nowhere, unbidden; and the more I resisted, the more it persisted.
So, I prayed, and I prayed hard. And She sent me an answer, one that I did not understand at first, but followed, and which has since led me to a devotional path. I surrendered to it. (Note: this is so new to me that I’m not quite ready to share more, but will when I am.)
So, you are the first to know, after my husband, that I am no longer a soul’s path coach (please know that I will still call on my coaching skills as needed). I’m hesitant to call myself anything at this point, and I’m pretty sure that calling myself a messenger of Spirit would draw some attention on a business card :), so for now I’m a cacao medicine guide and shamanic practitioner for journeys to wholeness. And that may change too, but for now, it feels true as it comes from a place of total surrender.
Being with my Mom as she was dying made me see how important it is to be able to let go in life and in death. True compassion lives in the act of letting go, and yet it one of the hardest things we have to do in life. Far too often we have to learn the hard way to let go of that to which we have become attached.
And what’s left, after all that letting go, is the most beautiful, luminous crystal made from all that pressure and molten fire. It’s you, all shiny and purified, and so much wiser and stronger.
Choose your catalyst (or embrace the one that comes to you), stay curious, stand in awe of the wonder and mystery of life, and know and believe that what you are opening to is exactly what you need. Give yourself permission to let go of whatever is holding you back, standing in your way, or keeping you from the joy and peace that’s on the other side. Let go, so that what’s meant to be reveals itself.
Sometimes I forget I’m a warrior on my own path of self-realization. So, when I come up against a formidable foe like fear, I have to force myself to look deeply inside and find my courage.
Of course, I very much want people to take my course. Psst, click
I arrived late for opening circle (I am never late for anything), but luckily I came bearing gifts, so that smoothed my way. As we opened circle, I shared what was in my heart. Actually, that was all that was left of me. Just my heart. And it was perfect. I didn’t even have the strength to criticize myself afterwards. Note to self: heart-centered giving (with no expectations) weakens an Inner Critic. Good to know.

I’m with Danielle. I too am learning to live in the liminal space between effort and surrender, and some days I’m better at it than others…. I see this same struggle in many of my friends and clients, who have excelled in life by being fully in control, until something told them in no uncertain terms that they actually weren’t.

I was always afraid of the dark. Things going bump in the night (which was usually just my big sister under my bed). Where did that fear of the dark come from? From the uncertainty of it, from not knowing what was behind or within that darkness, or from wanting to avoid the darkness of pain or sadness?