Hey,
Welcome.
I'm Caroline and I'm really glad that you are here.
For my monthly love letter my monthly ponder But before I begin.
.
.
Love to invite us to simply arrive.
Wherever you are listening from.
Let your body find a little more support.
Allow your shoulders to drop.
Allow your jaw to soften.
None of it feels right.
Take a nice slow breath in.
And a long,
Soft breath out.
So I wonder,
What brought you to this talk today?
Perhaps it was the title.
Or perhaps something in you read those words.
Something needs to change.
And quietly said,
Yes,
That's me.
That's where I am.
So,
If that is you,
You're in the right place and you're certainly not alone.
That feeling really arrives with a fanfare,
A feeling of needing to change.
More often it's a low hum.
Underneath the ordinary days.
A restlessness.
A tiredness.
Tiredness by sleep doesn't quite touch.
Or sometimes it's a sense that the life you have built.
.
.
Or the way you have been holding.
Doesn't quite fit anymore.
Bit like a coat,
You know,
That used to keep you warm.
That used to fit really nicely but now it feels heavy on your shoulders,
It's worn in places,
Catches you under your arms.
And sometimes this hum shows up in the body first.
That tight chest.
On a Sunday evening.
The headache.
The tightness in your stomach.
Your solar plexus.
The way you snap at the people you love most.
Sometimes it's a thought that keeps coming back at three in the morning.
Sometimes it's simply annoying.
Without words.
That you can't keep doing it this way.
But this is also something important to say here is that whilst you're experiencing these things doesn't point to something being wrong.
Something has failed,
You've done something wrong.
Sometimes it's the sign that something in you is growing.
You've grown out of that space and it's your wiser self that is giving you a little tap on the shoulder and saying,
There's more for you than this.
So when our first instinct is to grip on even tighter.
Because that's really what most of us do when we feel that tap on the shoulder.
We're like,
Oh no,
Don't want to let go.
Or if like so many other people I see.
The first instinct is to get busy,
To fix it,
To make a plan,
To write a list,
To buy the book,
To try harder.
We grip the steering wheel a little tighter.
We push our foot down on the accelerator as though Effort alone will get us through.
Of course,
There's nothing wrong with effort.
Effort has served many of us well.
I worked in corporates.
For many,
Many,
Well,
17 years to be exact.
Before 10 years ago when I decided to leave.
And effort then was the currency.
I hate to think what it is now.
Push through,
Keep going,
Don't let them see you wobble.
And what I've noticed in my own life and in the work that I've done with so many people over the years.
Is that when something deep needs to change.
More effort often makes it worse.
Because the very thing that needs to change is the gripping itself.
You know that holding on?
That belief that if we just couldn't control enough we control even more Plan more.
Worry more.
We will be safe.
I was brought up in Cape Town,
South Africa,
Now I live in the UK,
But.
.
.
I have been caught in a few riptides and for those of you who know This feeling is very similar to that of being caught in a riptide.
Every instinct says swim hard swim hard against it but you will be told by the professionals,
By the lifeguards and by people who've experienced it.
The real thing to do in a riptide is to not fight.
Float.
Let the water carry you sideways out of the current.
And then you can make your way home.
So this is.
.
.
Where it brings me to the word Surrender.
For a lot of us,
Surrender is an uncomfortable word.
It can sound like we're giving up.
We've been defeated.
We're waving that white flag.
And we're just allowing life to walk all over us.
And when you've spent years being strong,
Being the capable one.
The one who holds everything together.
Surrender might feel downright dangerous.
But what I've learned,
And still learning,
That surrender isn't about giving up.
It's about softening,
It's about giving over,
Passing over the baton.
It's about releasing your grip on how things should look.
So that you can meet how things actually are.
It's moving away from forcing.
To allowing.
From pushing the river.
To trusting the flow of it.
Surrender isn't passive either.
You know,
It sounds like you're just kind of lying down and saying,
Yeah,
Okay,
Whatever.
Everything keeps going,
But it's not.
Surrender takes an enormous amount of courage.
Surrender is choosing to stop resisting what is already here.
The grief,
The tiredness,
The change in your body,
The ending of a chapter.
Because until we stop resisting it.
.
.
We can't work with it.
Because we're too busy fighting it.
And another thing that I certainly need to remember.
.
.
And I want to share this with you because Surrender isn't something you do once and then tick off your list.
It's an invitation that keeps coming.
It's about how you live your life on a day-to-day basis.
And each time it comes,
It's asking you to go a little deeper.
So as I record this.
We are about to move into sour.
We are in autumn here in the UK.
And the trees I can see in my direct eye line are.
.
.
Beautifully golden.
And every now and again I can see a leaf falling gently.
Falling down And as I find myself watching them.
.
.
It's always that reminder of.
.
.
Tree is not gripping onto those leaves.
It's not arguing.
It's not saying,
I've worked so hard in growing these leaves,
They must stay.
But they were lovely.
Everyone admired them.
And now it's simply time for them to fall.
Because the tree knows that allowing them to go is how it survives the winter.
It draws its energy down deep into its roots and it rests.
The tree isn't panicking.
When its branches are bare.
It doesn't decide it has failed as a tree.
It trusts that the bareness is part of it.
It knows that spring will come in its own time and that's when what grows will grow from those deep roots.
So I wonder what you might be being asked to allow to fall away right now.
Maybe it's an old way of being.
Perhaps it's a role you have outgrown.
Perhaps it's a story.
About who you have to be in order to be loved.
In order to be safe.
In order to be enough.
You might be thinking.
But I've already done so much letting go.
Done the work,
I'm tired,
I've had the therapy,
I've read the books,
I've done the courses.
Why does it feel like I'm being asked again and again and again?
And I hear you.
I truly,
Truly hear you.
But I feel that this is where the even deeper comes in surrender has so many layers.
A bit like peeling the onion or even the way i sometimes see it as an archaeological site and we've got layers and layers and layers and each layer is going to bring us some more information And as we begin to release these things and move into the softness of being with surrender,
We begin to feel lighter,
More at ease.
Life settles.
For a while.
And then,
When you are ready,
And generally it's not a moment before.
The next layer needs to be excavated.
And it's not because you're doing anything wrong.
It's that you are strong enough,
You are resourced enough,
You are safe enough to meet what's underneath,
What's in the next layer.
The fact that this invitation is arriving again is simply and actually a sign of how far you have come.
And so often the first layers of surrender are about circumstances.
So it's about the Letting go of the job,
A relationship,
A plan.
And what I'm noticing is the deeper layers are more about your identity.
It's about letting go of who you thought you had to be.
The perfectionist,
The fixer.
The one who never needs anything.
And the deepest layers,
They're often about trust.
Trusting that you are held.
Trusting yourself.
Trusting.
That life is not something you have to manage on your own.
So if you'd like to,
I have three questions here,
Three journaling questions.
And you don't need to answer them straight away,
But allow them to.
Come to you.
Allow them to land.
And be curious as to what comes out.
So the first question is.
.
.
What am I still holding on to that is no longer mine?
What am I still holding on to that is no longer mine?
And the second question is.
.
.
What would change if I trusted myself?
A little more today.
What would change if I trusted myself a little more today?
And the third question.
Is what is already good.
Right here.
That I have been too busy to notice.
What is already good?
Right here.
That I've been too busy to notice.
And I love that last question.
Because to render for me,
And gratitude are such close companions.
When we stop straining towards what should be.
We find ourselves in a space.
That has room to notice what is.
The warmth of the mug in your hands.
The friend who.
.
.
Sent you a message.
The fact that your heart continues to beat faithfully.
Through every hard day you've ever had.
Gratitude isn't about pretending everything is fine.
It's about widening your lens enough.
To see that alongside what's hard.
There is also so much that is holding you.
So as we come to the end of this talk,
I want us to just take a few moments to practice this together right now.
And if it feels comfortable and safe.
Just let your eyes close.
Or gaze your eyes.
Softly on the floor in front of you.
And I'd like you to make two fists with your hands,
So each hand is a fist.
And squeeze them firmly.
Your whole body.
Really,
Really squeezing your hands and notice the effort it takes.
Notice how that tension travels up your arms,
Into your shoulders,
Maybe into your jaw I'm back!
Is what holding on feels like.
So hold it there a little longer.
And now slowly allow your hands to open.
Allow your fingers to uncurl.
And rest your hands on your lap,
Palms up.
Notice the release,
The warmth.
The tingle Notice how much easier it is to breathe.
With open hands,
You can't grip.
But with open hands you can receive.
Breathing in now.
As you say silently to yourself.
I am willing.
And breathing out.
You say,
I let go.
Breathing in,
I am willing.
I choose peace.
Breathing out,
I let go.
And trust in God's grace.
One more time.
Breathing in.
I am willing.
I choose peace.
And breathing out,
I let go.
I trust in God's grace.
And just take a moment to flow with that breath.
Notice.
That you didn't need to know what you were letting go of.
You didn't need a plan.
Willingness is willingness.
Is where surrender begins.
As we come towards the end of our time together.
I want to leave you with this.
When you feel that something needs to change.
You don't always have to work.
Out what it is.
You don't always when you feel that something needs to change.
You don't always have to work out what or how straight away.
Sometimes the change that is needed.
Is simply to stop.
To soften.
And to turn towards yourself.
With the kindness and compassion you would offer to a friend.
And to trust that the next step will become clear.
When you are ready to take it.
The answers you are looking for aren't there in the next book or the next plan.
The answers have been with you all along.
And when we are so beautifully grounded into the present moment.
The next step will present itself.
Even when we don't know where it's leading us to,
We just trust and surrender in what we are being shown.
So,
Take this invitation home with you.
Keep your hands a little more open this week.
Or the days ahead.
And notice.
When you are gripping.
And see if you can loosen.
Even a fraction.
And trust.
Whatever falls away.
Is making room.
For something truer to grow.
So thank you.
Thank you so much for spending this time with me.
Look after yourself.
And remember,
My door is always open.
