Nothing To Do

In the place of surrender, there is nothing to do. Nothing that is supposed to happen, nowhere to be, no one in particular to engage in this nothingness with.

Rather, it is a place of presence, of beingness, of ease, grace, and flow. From this place of nothing, anything can arise. As I relax into this place, as I release all control and effort, things begin to emerge: desire, willingness, inspired action. The spirit of God begins to work through me, awakening my body, arousing my passions, bringing forth my soul's purpose and calling. I move without walking, speak without needing to utter a sound, work without working.

I didn't set out to accomplish anything today, didn't have any external goals, wasn't trying to achieve anything, and yet things happened. A workshop was brought into form, a healing and awakening occurred, ideas were birthed, text written, connections made, intimacy transpired, tasks completed, food cooked. Yet, I feel like I didn't really do anything to make any of it happen. It just did. I feel both alive and relaxed, almost surreal. How did all these things happen? Did I just dream it all up? And yet, the proof surrounds me that it was all real. All I did was let go.

This place is about allowing, about doing the backstroke amidst the river of life, about being moved rather than moving. It is about saying, "Take me, use me, play me. I am yours, divine will. I surrender." While I do feel some sadness tonight, I also feel full and connected, like I've made contact with a part of myself that I've been missing for a while. Perhaps this sadness is really a grieving of this separation.

Whatever the reason, I am choosing to continue to do nothing, instead allowing myself to be done, to be undone, to give it all up and over to the whim of source and to my soul. Take me.