Dear Friend,

There will be moments when you think you cannot do this. As in, no way, this is too much, the world is conspiring against me, everything is too hard, there are no breaks in sight.

I. cannot. do. this.

But of course, you must.

So what lives in the space between impossible and necessary? What tiny shred of hope exists when the black and white page spells out defeat but the core of us demands that we continue? 

Surrender.

Surrendering to that which we cannot change but that which we must endure. That ultimate untimely ugly test. That moment when you recognize you won’t be going home as the same person who arrived. It’s a loss, it’s grieving, it’s painful adjustment. 

I’m sure there is some sort of beauty in the magnificent breakdown, but tonight I cannot see it. Tonight I feel the withering and rusting of my shell. A recoiling from too much physical pain, too much emotional burden. Not enough of me has survived tonight that I can feel familiar or safe or even sure about the next 5 minutes. But something still calls me here to preserve it. To document it so that we can remember this place, this necessary stayover in the belly of hell, so we don’t gloss over the real battle and triumph of this terrible disease. So we can someday remember how far we’ve come, that this too shall pass, and that the broken bits heal back stronger, more sturdy at the seams. I will not be the same person after these final weeks of this process. But God willing, I will be better. 

But not tonight. Real growth, real strength is not forged over night. It will rebuild in me molecule by molecule. Restructuring me until I am someone new and whole. But for now, I will rest. I will search my heart for some peace, for some patience with myself and this process. And then I will rest. The only thing I can do is not fight myself. Not make it worse. Surrender is critical to survival. It is the only graceful, loving thing I can muster up. 

Do not mistake surrender for weakness, friends. Surrender is not giving up, it is giving in. If you have to submerge in icey waters, it is slipping into the river to flow with the stream rather than fight and thrash against the water’s force. It is fighting smarter, not harder. It is finding some ultimate sliver of wisdom that insists that you must protect yourself to save yourself, even when that includes shutting down nearly everything else to save what little resources are left. It’s about turning inward to let go of the mental giants of ego and pride to redirect some energy to nurse your wounded soul. It is self love above all other pretenses. It is releasing it all and standing unabashed in your nakedness to get through the next 5 minutes. So you can do another 5. And another. And another. Until some tiny hole is poked into the clouds and a beam of sunlight reveals itself. 

So come soon sun. Please. Until then…

I lovingly surrender.

Give Em’ Hell.