Surrender in Spiritual Awakening: Allowing the Undoing

On the coast line of Spain; I surrender

There comes a moment in the Heroine’s Journey when everything is stripped away — not by choice, but by necessity.

After the end of my marriage…

After I no longer belonged in my family…

After my children had flown…

After the accidents left my body and brain healing…

After my career dissolved…

After I let go of the house, the roles, the identity…

There was nothing left but me.

I had entered the sacred undoing.

This wasn’t theoretical. It was cellular. Existential. It touched the deepest architecture of my being — the hidden scaffolding I didn’t even know was there. What came next was not action, but surrender. The kind of surrender that isn’t chosen so much as claimed by the soul. There was something within me — ancient, wise — that whispered: Let go. And somehow, I did.

The final surrender wasn’t just marriage or family or career.

It was the surrender of my beliefs.

The surrender of the programs and constructs that had shaped the very way I thought, felt, saw, and lived.

This was the deep death — of the self I thought I was.

And this was my surrender in spiritual awakening.

And like all true rites of passage… I walked it alone.

Surrender in Spiritual Awakening: Allowing the Undoing

What came next was not action, but surrender.

The kind of surrender that isn’t chosen so much as claimed by the soul.There was something within me — ancient, wise — that whispered: Let go. And somehow, I did.

At the height of the undoing, I tattooed the word Surrender on my foot. A private vow: that I would walk the rest of my life step by step, surrendered to my soul. No longer to fear, no longer to doctrine — but to the quiet voice within.

The process wasn’t gentle.

It was grief-laced. Unbearable. Clarifying.

I remember lying on the floor of my cabin one morning after a fast. A strange sensation had woken me in the night — it felt like spiders crawling on my skin. I leapt up, turned on the lights — nothing was there. Later, as I lay down on a buffalo hide rug, something happened. I entered a state of meditation I had never known. I had never even practiced meditation. But something beyond me took hold.

I slipped into a place so serene, so nourishing, so still — I knew I was being shown something sacred. The lesson? Surrender.

It wasn’t in words. Not in the familiar chatter of the ego's inner narratives.

It was in presence.

I knew I was being initiated.

I didn’t know what into…

But I knew I was meant to allow it.

And so I did.

What followed were years of being in the in-between — the liminal wilderness between who I had been, and who I was becoming. A space where nothing was certain, and everything was dissolving. When the beliefs of religion rose up to reclaim me, I met them with curiosity instead of obedience. When the ideas of who I was “supposed” to be surfaced, I looked them in the eye. I questioned everything — appearance, roles, relationships, identity, possessions, community, conditioning.

If I am not a wife, a mother, a daughter… who am I?I

f I am not my house, my body, my career, my religion… what remains?

This season of surrender in spiritual awakening brought about a sacred purification. An unlayering of everything false. And then… something unexpected emerged.

In the stillness, I heard a whisper I had never truly heard before.

The voice of my soul.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. But it was real. And it offered something I had never experienced: a sense of belonging that didn’t depend on anyone else. A connection that asked nothing from me but presence.

And even though I didn’t know where it was all leading…

Even though I couldn’t yet make sense of the fire I was in…

I knew with my entire being: I could never go back.

People I loved began to place labels on me. Said I’d gone crazy.

They didn’t understand — how could they?

I didn’t even understand.

But I knew I was being held by something greater than understanding.

I was in the fires of alchemy — burning away all that wasn’t true.

And somehow… in the sacred wilderness of surrender,

I was not lost.

I was becoming.

Closing Reflection:

If you are in the in-between — stripped bare, misunderstood, floating in the void — know this:

You are not broken.

You are being remade.

Surrender is not giving up.

It is giving over — to your soul’s deeper knowing.

Let what must burn, burn.

Something sacred is rising.