A Season of Surrender

“With grace, I choose to love her. Her body. Her flesh. Her heart. And her bones.”

quote written Nov. 15, 2018

Image by Katharine Grace Delaney

I believe there’s something to the idea of surrender. Something pivotal that changes our perspective.

For years I accepted my way of life, my diseases, my dysfunctions, and my mental illness, as normalcy. It became a part of who I was. Just, me. I didn’t see it as a message, a sign my body was throwing in my direction, until I chose to surrender.

A year ago I was in a very difficult place. I was 90 pounds, unable to walk, dizzy in a drunken stupor, foggy as if something was infecting my mind. I was weak, angry, and depressed. I spent most of my time crying over the shame I felt towards my body, the shame I felt because I wasn’t “normal,” the shame I felt because I didn’t work properly.

The day I chose to surrender, was the day everything changed. That day, was the day I began to heal.

Surrender is a choice. A known, uncomfortable choice. In the realm of sickness, rather than avoid it, ignore it, or normalize it, I began to sit with it, converse with it, and understand it. Eventually I grew to be curious and empathetic, which later grew into dedication and passion.

This dedication and passion threw life back into my veins. I don’t mean to say, it was by any means, easy, but it was worth it.

Each day was filled with excruciating pain, and moments where I wasn’t quite sure if I’d come out of it. But each day brought me something new. A new opportunity, a new perspective, a new way of healing.

I began to see my healing process, my season of surrender, as a choice, a time of permission, and an invitation. I allowed myself to feel every inch of pain, sorrow, and confusion. I accepted it as my only job. The only thing I had to do was sit, feel, and heal. During this time, I began to write. A lot. I began to write, read, and process. I wrote my thoughts, read about the experiences of others, and processed my pain.

On December 6, 2018, I wrote, “With each morning breath, comes an invitation. An invitation to healing. Each and every day is it's own battle, where my body struggles to set itself free. I don’t know what each fight will hold or when my body will begin to carry its own, but I’m learning that it’s ok to hold my heart in the palm of my hands.”

I still carry this piece of writing with me, today. This snippet, is actually, what propelled me to create A Bit of Thyme.

As difficult as it is to look back on my season of surrender, with fond memories or moments of joy, I cherish the process I went through, because it led me to who I am today. Although my experience felt traumatizing, exhausting, depleting, and painful, today, I feel centered and driven, with a fire that burns inside me, urging me to share my experience with others.

You may be reading this now, sitting and experiencing, exactly where I was a year ago. And, honestly, I don’t know if what I’m saying gives you hope or if it irritates you. But, I hope you leave here knowing that whatever feelings you’re sitting in, whatever pain, sickness, sorrow, anger, and confusion, you may be feeling, it’s ok to sit in them. It’s ok to surrender. It’s ok to befriend your internal enemies. And it’s ok to take your time getting there. Although I encourage you to accept the invitation, to love yourself and your body, while choosing a perspective that will give you peace and clarity, it’s ok to be angry and resistant. It’s ok to avoid it, and stew it in a little while longer. But tomorrow, maybe even a week from now, I hope you choose to surrender.