It was a reminder that omission is another form of lying, and it was my daughter who suggested what is possible to make good on my commitment, to write for three hundred and sixty-five days straight. Hence, the fifteen of March ends my undertaking.  

Here is a funny thought. To laugh at oneself can be healing for the soul.

The reflection today about surrendering self-will is an understatement of what I attempted most of the day. Each time my thoughts would go to what I could do to help someone, I knew I had to let go and allow the universe to take control. My new sponsor suggested that I write what emotions I felt and invite my higher power with me. To also write why I felt the feelings and the solution would surface because my answers were within. Low and behold, as I continued to write, my fingers typed, “Lynda, again, you are powerless over your past, your future, people, places, and things.” What a liberation I experienced today. Because of the reminder that the answer is within me, I am intentional with listening, being honest, and willing to admit and accept the truth and then let go.

I admit I am mourning on many occasions. I decided to change sponsors, and although our relationship will remain on a friendship basis, it was an incredible connection, but it was time. Also, in the last few weeks, sponsorees have come and gone, but I know that they too have their higher power to steer them, but it still doesn’t stop me from feeling emotions of failure and guilt. Another is the thought that I will come to an end of sharing these writings with others. Yet, I also know that my higher power moves me, guiding me in other directions, one, to continue the work on my novel. I also know that before I can move into spaces of newness, I have to rid my sadness and sorrows to allow room for originality to take its place.

As I tinker around, moving things from one spot to another, I know that is all procrastination. Eventually, I will find a way to leap into the space that my higher power is centering time for me to punctuate the novelty of my sobriety. Another refreshing awareness is that I see myself in others if only I am willing to recognize that it is me, that I see, that I want to control. All I have to do is to let go, surrender my self-will and allow nature to take its course.

It is beautiful imagery to know that emotional pain and failed attempts to fix me are when I become willing to surrender. A place of arrival is like mist to the face, with strokes of soft tenderness, so gentle that it lures me to resign. The emancipation frees me to be built again, with silk rope tightening to my spine, joints, and mind, allowing me to dive in the sea of possibilities surrounded by an ocean of life preservers. Oh, such beauty and a great reminder—it’s sweet on the other side of bondage if only I am willing.  

Peace and love, feel free to share. To unsubscribe, say so. The reading is attached.

Author, Lynda M.