In moments of great suffering we have a choice to fight it
or surrender to it and allow it to take us to destinations we cannot
imagine. Ever.
The companion piece to Love
drove me to Rebel had to be a contrast to the rebellion and, two years
after the loss of those kids, when I was writing one morning, I came to a place
I had never thought I would get to:
surrender. I decided I didn’t
want to walk in the land of the dead anymore.
I decided to peek my head over the parapet and make a run for the land
of the living.
I remember now that I was searching for a next tattoo
because a dear friend of mine was encouraging me after I had shared with her
that I was starting a Masters program in leadership. She was/is a Principal in a school outside of
my district and told me that if I took out my piercings and covered my tattoos,
she would hire me in a heartbeat.
One-one thousand
Two-one thousand
…those of you reading this who really know me just laughed
out loud because you know exactly what I did after that brunch conversation…
Yep…
booked another tattoo appointment and promptly set off to
the local piercing establishment and got another nose piercing…totaling three.
Childish? Maybe.
I certainly knew where I stood on the whole “should I become
an administrator?” question….NOPE!
And if I do, the school gets me as I am. Period.
So I needed something to balance the right arm and Surrender to Life came dancing through
my pages one morning.
I messaged Alex and an appointment was made. I asked him to pay homage to Cody, the young
man whose work inspired my Love
tattoo.
As usual, Alex created a piece that was beyond my
imaginings. He made it dark and heavy
and real – the way surrender should be – full contrast to the lightness of
Love. The arrows and lines move, bringing
the piece to life on my skin – arrow heads pointing to the centre and
beyond.
Active.
Energetic.
Angular and sharp.
Versus the softness of the Love piece – all curves and round
edges.
There is contrast within contrast – the rebellion piece is
soft and the surrender piece is sharp.
He’s so clever, my skin artist friend.
So the surrender –
The piece actually anchors me when I am afraid.
When I stood at the foot of the few steps in the metro
station in Paris this summer, lost and afraid – not at the right stop because
the train was under repair – I had to make a choice. I had to choose fear or surrender: I could get back on the train to my hotel at
the airport or I could surrender to the light at the top of the steps and move
forward…surrender to life.
I saw those inked arrows in my mind as I put my foot on the
first step and then I exhaled and stepped into the light. The moment in Interstellar when McConaughey’s character lets go of the controls
as they fly into the black hole – that is how it was for me. I had to release
and surrender.
I can say that the reminder to walk into the light has
served me well in the years following the eviscerating pain of 2012. It has been a call to action – to live for
the moment, in the moment.
To learn to
breathe and be present with all that is in that breath.
Even in the moments of pain…like when getting a tattoo…fighting
the pain, the act of rebellion, causes more pain. The only way to ease it is to surrender to it
– drop into the eye of the hurricane, exhale, and let it wash over you.
And, in the end, what remains is beauty.
