How to Surrender Your Fear

“To engender a sense of freedom, lie on your back and enter into the moods of the sky.” ~ Chrissie Wildwood

The night was so hot and uncomfortable. I went outside to lie down on the grass, the soft green chest of the great mother against my back. I breathed in the dark overcast sky knowing that no Goddess kissed raindrops would fall from it. Bats flew, criss-crossing through secret sky paths above me.

I could feel the tightness of fear and anxiety in my body and the many things that I’m afraid of rising to the surface: Judgement and uncertainty. The fear that I may never overcome the challenges of PCOS or carry a pregnancy to term, despite my efforts to heal and balance my body or nurture my spirit. And also those debilitating moments when I’m so consumed by anxiety that I cannot do simple things that come naturally to everyone around me. Fear has a sneaky way of convincing us that only dead ends lie ahead, even when that’s the furthest thing from the truth.

IMG_20171117_134515_788

I looked up at the tree tops against the dark sky and inhaled their wildness. Their silhouettes swayed in the wind and I drew their freeing energy into the tight places of my body. Let it all go, whispered something in me. So, I tried to. I let my tension dissolve. I wanted to surrender to the night, to become part of it and to free the parts of me that felt locked in shackles. I needed to embrace my fear, surrender to the flow of love regardless, trusting that it would guide me forward to a more nurturing and positive truth. As Gabby Bernstein’s puts it so perfectly in The Universe Has Your Back, “By embracing my fear and surrendering my desire to be free, an even greater pathway to freedom is opened up to me.”

I realised that there is no fear in the wildness of things of the night, just a confident sureness, a deep Trust. So, I recognised that must be like bats who trust whole-heartedly in their inner guidance system to navigate them through the dark. I must trust my truth and the sound of my own voice the way they trust their screeches to reverberate through the quiet air and then return to them as a sounding board. And I must shake off my fear like the wildness of dark tree silhouettes on a windy evening and guide myself back to the confident space of love, trust and hope for new possibilities.

I inhaled the coolness around me and felt myself loosening up, aware of the sense of ease growing within. I remembered how in many difficult moments, surrendering to energy of the Earth and trusting in the Universe offered me refuge and insight, and I felt grateful that these glimpses of wildness have carried me beyond the fear and home to myself again. As I listened to the sky, it seemed to look back down at me and say: “Surrender…Be fearless like the wild night.”

be fearless

“The practice that will serve your highest good is the practice of surrendering to the love of the Universe.” ~ Gabrielle Bernstein

Meditation for Surrender: Centre yourself with a few deep breaths. Relax your body and clear your mind. What fears are unsettling you right now? What is causing you anxiety? Take note of what comes up and then set the intention to surrender these fears and anxiety to the Universe. Let it all go. Visualise everything being released from your body, from you mind and your soul as you surrender and let go. Feel the tension melting way more and more as you release. Now think about the more positive thoughts and feelings that you would like to cultivate within yourself. What are they? How do you want to feel? Allow yourself to continue to surrender your fears and replace them with more nurturing beliefs that bring your peace of mind, calmness and joy.

Affirmation: I surrender my fear to the Universe. I choose a loving perspective that serves my highest good instead. I choose to think good thoughts that nurture my soul and help me connect to feelings of deeper peace.

(*Revised/Recycled Post)

Advertisements

The Medicine of Dappled Light

Some days it doesn’t take much to restore myself to balance, just a quiet walk amongst the trees. There is medicine in their dappled light. There’s a kind of therapy to the enigmatic tree shadows and soft sunlight dancing together on my skin.

light

It doesn’t take much to stand beneath their tender creaking branches and to close my eyes while they breathe healing over me. I forget the curative potential of simple things like this when I’m swept up by life’s complex currents, lost in the ever present pattern of busyness or bogged down by expectations, demands and the pressure to survive. But it doesn’t take much to step aside from it all for a moment, to feel the vibrant earth under my feet and let the scents of damp soil and rain soaked trees seep into my pores.

shaded path

Every day, Mother Earth reminds me that healing doesn’t always have to be hard. It can be as easy as taking the time. It can be as simple as making the space. It can be as effortless as being open, showing up and allowing something beyond myself to pour a restorative balm into my soul. It can be as crazy, yet uncomplicated and peaceful, as walking slowly between ancient trees – standing people, wisdom keepers and great restorers of the burdened heart – and just breathing in the unassuming medicine of their enchanting splays of dappled light.

When you find yourself in a sticky moment, overwhelmed by life’s challenged, would you be willing to go into their presence and rest your heart in their midst? Just for a little while. A small dose of shinrin yoku may be just the thing to guide you back home to the peace of your inner essence.

500 Words of Wild Wisdom: A Path Through the Forest

Today, I am so happy to share the first instalment of the new 500 Words of Wild Wisdom blog series. The first guest post is A Path Through the Forest from Anne Linn, a beautiful poetic writer whose work I love and the author of The Little Flower:You Are Loved. In this piece, Anne writes about her experience of nature as a path to the Divine Mother, healing and a deeper connection with herself. 


A Path Through the Forest by Anne Linn


I knelt in the rain, in the last light of autumn and prayed to the Goddess, to all overseeing things. I prayer to the trees, to the sky, and felt the darkness gathering around, inky black and full of stars.

I walked in the forest and it seemed darker than I remember, and yet more lovely as I crouched to pick the last of the blueberries, as I gathered golden mushrooms along a moss covered path.

The sun and gone away, and I walked through a long shadow, feeling the evening deepening, seeing the sky lose its colour.

I stood by the stream, hearing the rush of water, loving its song, which is the music I always return to, the song of water.

I felt broken there in the forest, cracked open, and I kept walking even though I had been tired, had told myself I would not go far.

I felt the presence of the Goddess in the air, in the wind. I wanted to get closer, to feel her touch. I felt I was walking in a white glittering light, in an eternal church, vast and beautiful, stretching into eternity.

Life was easier then, when I wasn’t alone. When I was filled with her love, spreading out, touching everything with beauty, so even the dark trees seemed wrapped in pearls, in white light.

A Lesson Learned

I was asked to share something I had learned from nature, from the Goddess. I couldn’t think of much, other than one powerful thing, that nature brings healing. And that it helps me find her, my divine mother, helps me connect with her and with myself.

I once visited a friend in a beautiful place in nature. She took me to see a couple who lived away from any noise, any roads, and grew their own food, a river only steps away. My friend said how much she’d love to one day live like that, and I felt that too. I have often dreamed about owning a small house or cottage in the forest, next to swaying trees, my window overlooking an overgrown garden of herbs, wild roses climbing the walls.

But as I looked at this beautiful sanctuary in nature, it somehow seemed dark, empty. And I felt how alone I’d be without the God and Goddess, how I needed them to fill the space I was in. I felt that wherever I went, I had to carry them with me, and let them show me where to go.

That’s why I look for her in everything, when I make my food, when I walk in the forest. I want to be filled with something divine and beautiful, to touch something unseen, a world hidden and out of sight, but so close, the veil so thin I can almost reach through it. Sometimes in dreams I see beyond it and catch glimpses of glittering mysteries. Places I think we all long for. Places we might have been once, that was once home, and that we deep down still remember.

Last night I awoke from a dream, feeling I had been in a vast temple of stone, and wanted to return there. I was filled with longing and joy, because I remember a fragment of something wonderful, fragments of love.

It made me want to bring that temple inside of me, to carry it with me throughout the day. To have a secret place in my heart for the Goddess, to worship her, the rose, the light.


About Author:


 

Anne LiALheadshot.jpgnn writes about nature, about spirituality, and the Goddess. She also shares about grief and loss, and ways to mend the soul, the heart. She has written a short story, and is currently working on her next book. You can find her at www.littleforestflower.com