A Simple Surrender

Published on January 19, 2011

I remember when I was little and was taught how to pray. Down on my knees or laying straight in my bed. Eyes closed. Hands together. I would make my way through a few Hail Mary’s and a couple Our Fathers and would then call it a day.

When I got a little older I didn’t see the point of rambling off words that really didn’t mean anything to me. So I skipped the formalities and went straight to the source with a bargain or a plea.

It was sometime in my twenties when I found prayer again in the melody of this song by Emmy Lou Harris. Oh how her music cracked me open and made me see that the power of prayer resided somewhere deep inside of me. Not in words, nor in actions.

Just by simply surrendering to a force greater than me.

But yesterday I found myself alone on a trail of red dirt tucked quietly away in Sedona. I took my time and walked as the sun set slowly around me.

Everything felt alive. Magical. Complete.

Everything made sense–like the worn path, the chilly air, and the way my shoe has a hole on the top by my big toe.

I realize now how important the presence of prayer is in my life.

Not in words, nor in action.

But in simply surrendering to the highest sense of my being.

Surrendering to the dirt under my feet, the leaves as they drop from their branches. and the way my body shows up and is reflected in the essence of everything around me.

There is no need for pleas or bargains. Not even whispers of deepest gratitude are necessary.

All that is required from me–

is a simple surrender to the softness that fills the space of my heart

and the moments of my day.