Love and Surrender

Not every love story is beautiful.

In fact, most of them are ugly and bloody.

In matters of love, there are rarely intact survivors. We are all bruised, broken, and maimed… sometimes for life.

And we are better for it.

Better for having loved.

Better for being loved.

For love in its essence is the source of vitality. Renewing us. The mythical fountain of youth, magical plant of immortality.

For it is love that sets the ego free, giving our imagination the buoyancy to soar into dreams.

In surrender to love’s catharsis, we are forced to let go of the protective boundaries that also end up being protective barriers for us to reach out — the walls we build to protect our hearts become our own captive fortress.

As C.S. Lewis said, “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

It’s in surrender that we go into our pain, our old wounds.

We go through.

We grow through.

It’s in surrender that we are re-aligned with our own source of vitality. We surrender our old ways of thinking and seeing the world, seeking new ways to see the people and the world around us.

It’s in surrender that we learn to love again. To live again.

Those who love are the ones who are truly immortal.

I surrender.