September: Surrender Your Sorrow

09 surrender crows_web.jpg

So often, we think of “surrender” as a command, but we offer it to you here as an invitation. And though it’s a short and straightforward sentence, accepting the invitation is anything but. To begin at the end, sorrow isn’t an experience we get to control. Sorrow burrows between the folds of our thoughts and sinks under the weight of the day’s demands. When we do contact it, how tempting it is to find ways to sidestep this heavy and tender feeling. We may want to investigate sorrow’s source and purpose, examine its presence and deduce its needs, like a problem to be solved. What could it look like to surrender this sorrow, rather than burying it deep inside or busying ourselves around it? Whom or what would we surrender it to? 

Surrender is also a complicated word. You may associate this word with police and authority—being ordered to surrender, to turn yourself in. It has a sweeter meaning, though, that has nothing to do with oppressive power. To reclaim this word, let’s look at where it comes from: sur- rendre in French, literally means to give over. When we surrender, we give something of ourselves, we give it over to something else. Imagine giving back something you’ve borrowed from the whole—surrender moves from the personal back to the universal. From you to the universe. Here—this was mine and now it’s ours again. 

About the Spell

Surrendering our sorrow is an act of faith, it is a drawbridge that lowers only when conditions are safe enough to support it. Places of safety may feel scarce right now, but even when they are temporary and brief it is possible to work magic in them. Wherever you are able to sleep for a few minutes, you’ve found a safe-enough space. When you’re able to slow your breath. When your eyes start to notice beauty or when your body starts to release the tears you’ve been holding. 

We live in a culture that practices force and coercion throughout our social relations—many of us have trauma histories that can make it hard to feel safe enough to surrender. Be gentle with where you are, and how defended you need to be. When the conditions feel right, you will know. There may be fear guarding certain experiences, but in small and slow ways, your nervous system can re-learn how to relax, along with your muscles and your thinking mind. When you are ready to surrender your sorrow, remember that your tears are water and they feed the oceans. You can always give back what you have borrowed. Remember, you are always part of the whole.

Meditation on Surrender Your Sorrow

For this meditation, please find a comfortable place and position for your body. Begin by giving your attention to your senses—noticing all that you see, hear, feel, smell. And then, be somewhat selective—choose a sight or a smell or a feeling or a sound that brings you the most calm, and let your focus center on that. Perhaps it feels good to keep your focus centered, perhaps your focus naturally starts to decenter as your mental energy shifts into a softer mode. Whether your focus lands or drifts, let there be calm. Let there be calm in the space around you, and, if possible, let there be calm in the spaces within you. As you breathe, can you breathe in calmness… and let calmness circulate your body as you breathe out. Slowing down like this, you may find some feelings. If heaviness or sorrow starts to surface, remember you are made of water and can rock your body side to side like ocean waves, like lullabies. Remember sorrow sometimes shows itself as song and may ask your voice to hum or wail. Whatever is in you is okay to get out. In this meditation, may you remember that you do not have to protect the world from your sorrow or your pain—they are of the world, just as you are. 

About the painting:

Corina:  I love this one. This is a gesture I know well in my own body. And this is a painting that came together quickly and easily. It’s a particularly potent spell for me this month as I’m about to have life-saving surgery for a condition that I was starting to suffer from as we were drawing this calendar last year. As long as we’ve been making these spells I’ve discovered what each one means for me personally as I live through its month. I’ve heard from many of you who have the same experience, and I just want to say I’m with you. We don’t always know what certain spells mean as we make them, but I’ve really learned to trust our collaboration and how time unfolds its meaning.

Jocelyn: This painting is a balm to look at, and was a balm to paint. My sister and I are able to have all sorts of feelings, but one thing we share is an intimacy with grief. As heavy as this emotion can be, there is such depth of love and heart in it that brings great calm to my spirit even as it shakes my human form. This month, my sister is having life-saving surgery as I am in the final throes of preparing for giving birth to a new life. We do not get to be with each other for these life-changing events and this month’s image is, once again, a balm to me and a bridge to me and my sister’s unshakable connection in this life. 

This month:


~ In It Together~
Jo & Corina