Day 2104: Surrender

Yesterday, I surrendered to a therapy group member’s suggestion that people express their thoughts and feelings about “surrender.”

What does surrender mean to you?  What’s your personal experience of surrender?  What would happen if you surrendered?  What would change in your life?

 

Ann shall now surrender to her wish to quote others about “surrender.”

It took me a while to learn the true meaning of patience and surrender, but I have finally accepted that healing doesn’t happen on our schedule. It doesn’t have a clock or a calendar.

— Yolanda Hadid

The creative process is a process of surrender, not control.

— Julia Cameron

Growth demands a temporary surrender of security.

— Gail Sheehy

If you surrender completely to the moments as they pass, you live more richly those moments.

— Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Let the winds of evidence blow you about as though you are a leaf, with no direction of your own. Beware lest you fight a rearguard retreat against the evidence, grudgingly conceding each foot of ground only when forced, feeling cheated. Surrender to the truth as quickly as you can.

— Eliezer Yudkowsky

Always say ‘yes’ to the present moment… Surrender to what is.  Say ‘yes’ to life – and see how life starts suddenly to work for you rather than against you.

— Eckhart Tolle

There are also many quotes about the negative side of surrender, including this one:

Not voting is not a protest. It is a surrender.

— Keith Ellison

Please vote for your favorite photo in today’s post, including these:

 

 

Soon I’ll be surrendering my shoulder to my physical therapist, Matt, who was devilishly happy on Wednesday when I added a chorus, just for him, to my  original song “Triggers.” Here are some of the lyrics I’ll be surrendering up to an audience tonight at an Open Mic performance of “Triggers”  in Arlington, Massachusetts:

TRIGGERS

For me it’s the cold and the dark,

For him it’s not finding a safe place to park.

For some it’s a loud noise,

For others it’s bad boys,

For many it’s news of attacks by a shark.

Everybody’s got a trigger,

Some of us have more than one.

Some are small and some are bigger.

None of them are ever fun.

© Ann Koplow 2018

Here‘s “Surrender” by Cheap Trick.

I also surrender to the musical suggestion of these socks.

I surrender to the truth that some won’t be able to watch the videos I include in these posts.

I now surrender to your comments and to my gratitude for all who helped me create this “surrender” post and — of course! — for YOU.

Day 1563: Make a wish.

Okay, everybody!  Let’s each make a wish, using whatever method we prefer for wishing.

When people wish at my office, they sometimes use one of these:

Do you believe that if you make a wish and share that wish, it won’t come true? Just to be safe, I’m not going to share the wish I just made, but I do wish to share all the other photos I took yesterday.

I do make a wish, every day, that I will help and awaken somebody, sometimes by encouraging them to wish.

I also wish to help and awaken somebody with “I Wish” by Stevie Wonder.

I shall now make another wish: that my readers comment on this blog exactly as they wish.

I wish, as always, to end this daily post with thanks to all who help me  blog exactly how I wish and — of course! — to YOU, no matter what you wish.

Day 256: Worst nightmares (Friday the 13th)

Today is Friday the 13th.

Eeeeeeeeeek!!!!!

So it’s time for …..

Random Thoughts about Worst Nightmares

Eeeeeeeeeeekk!!!!!!

When I woke up this morning, I felt cold.

Here’s the data on the recent weather in these parts: the temperature was in the 70’s on Monday, the 80’s on Tuesday, the 90’s on Wednesday, the 80’s yesterday, and (let me check) it’s going to be in the 70’s today.

When I’m in a therapy session — individual or group — people often hesitate to name their worst nightmares. They express a fear that if they share those, they will upset or alienate other people in the room. Often, when people describe an old nightmare, it’s part of the process of letting go of that.

When somebody is feeling bad, often a helpful question is: “What’s your worst nightmare right now?” (Also known as, “What’s the worst that could happen?”) When people allow themselves to express their worst fear, they often realize that dreaded future occurrence is unlikely. And, even if the worst fear is a distinct possibility, people usually realize they have survived worse.

In a previous blog post, I described a worst nightmare I used to have. In that recurring dream, I’d be trying to call somebody on the phone. Because of problems with my vision (and other obstacles), I could not reach the person by phone, no matter how I tried.

Here’s a nightmare I’ve only had once.

When I was a little girl, I had to have several surgeries, to implant cardiac pacemakers .

Before this particular surgery, my father, the nurses, and I had prepared a joke for the surgeons. It must have been the fall or early winter, because this was the joke: The nurses and I had put a sign on my body that said, “Do Not Open Until Christmas.”

The surgeon, in a very surgeon-like way, said, “Very funny,” when he saw the sign, and took it off my body.

Then, as usual, the anesthesiologist put a mask on my face

Somebody said, “Count backwards from 100.”

And I started to count.

I looked up at the doctors, wearing their own masks, looking down at me.

As I was looking up at them, that image started to change.

It reminded me of getting closer and closer to a photo in a newspaper, or an image on a television set.

Sort of like this:

It was more like a black-and-white image, though. And as I kept staring at it, the dots that made up that image got bigger and bigger.

Finally, I fell into one big, black dot.

And everything was black.

And I heard a voice. It wasn’t a nice voice. It was a cold, unfriendly voice.

It did not wish me well.

It said this:

That person you were before — the one that was joking with the doctors — is not real. This is the only thing that is real. And you will always come back to this.

Then, thank goodness, I woke up.

It was only a dream.

Sometimes, that’s the way a story ends.

Like here:

And like here, today.

Thanks for being there, dear readers.