with
Debra Driscoll
“I will not fight. I will not win this time. But I will not, I will not, live a little life,” sings Clare Bowditch in her song, People like me, people like you.
What if the fight is over? What if surrendering to magic is the way forward for women?
Redefining Surrender: From Struggle to Sacred Power
In my measured melodic meditation voice I ask the women I am guiding to return to themselves, and the room they are in. I invite them to wiggle their fingers and toes.
One by one the women open their eyes and return to the zoom screen. They emerge slowly from surrender.
It was part one of a four part Surrender Meditation series. We began with surrender of the physical body. Mind, heart and spirit would follow in the weeks to come. As faces become animated again, I invite a reflection on their experience—how surrender felt in their body.
I was surprised to witness the fight in the room.
The women felt surrender meant they had lost. They saw the white flag waving in the wind and they actively resisted it. To surrender was to lose the fight. They agreed that surrender was not sweet or easy. There was no expansive or safe space inside it.
As the women shared I could hear myself in their stories. Surrendering of a body that has been weaponized is not easy or comfortable. Letting go, for a woman expected to hold the line for so many is not what women are accustomed to doing, or being allowed to do. We are also taught to measure in wins and losses so surrender becomes the loser’s move.
I asked the women, what if no one wins or loses? What if surrender was a loving act?
I began the intricate work of untying the knots of curiosity about women and surrender.
I asked myself, how can I make surrender feel safe?
I know surrender. I know the fight, the feelings of loss, the lack of safety and certainty.