Surrender Archives -

Leaping Off the Cliff

By Simone Lipscomb | January 28, 2015

Today I wrote a friend, “I feel a nudge to fly off the cliff….my toes are hanging over the edge and I’m looking back…looking down at a faraway salt water Ocean realm….and a blue sky in front of me….and so I stand…trembling a little…excited….and grateful.”

It feels as if I’m at a huge turning point in my life that seems to have appeared suddenly but in truth it has been in process for decades. It began when I made a decision to clear out anything keeping me from doing whatever my ‘mission’ was. Sounds funny now but as a 25 year old, it was serious stuff.

Little did I know my journey would take me through really rough times. The more I resisted inner change, the harder it became. There came a point where everything fell apart. I lost basically everything. It was a true dark time in my life. But it was a time where I was able to clear out inner debris as well. I released fears and other crippling emotions as I worked on healing. As the darkness cleared, light was exposed.

The more I surrendered to my path, the clearer the direction became. Looking back I can see those turning points and the narrowing of direction clearly but at the time it was pretty intense. Support came for my work in many forms. My first book was published by an indie company. Making ten percent in royalties on my first book, after all the work, prompted me to publish my next two books. Another book co-authored was picked up by another indie house in Kentucky. Another book was co-authored and done in E-format. That may sound exciting and it is satisfying, but being a writer and photographer has yet to create a supportive income. But thankfully the support has come in other forms as I continue to surrender to the direction of my heart.

Recently another narrowing of focus and intention occurred through a series of events that I wrote about in an earlier blog. Now that I’m on the other side of the decision-making process it’s a bit scary. Other financial commitments arise as I further the work of my heart….marine education, volunteer researcher, underwater photography at a more professional level, more writing and publishing of books on marine animals. I went away for a week and came home with a list of things that will be the next steps in my life. And amazingly, support has begun to arrive for this next phase of my work. I feel grateful for the direction and the support.

I lit my candles this morning, after a unsettled night of wrestling fear and anxiety about the upcoming opportunities and projects. I asked to be given a specific sign….”Show me if I am going in the right direction.” Late this afternoon I had two signs happen within minutes of each other. Why do I need signs? Because I dream big at times and wonder if I’m sane. And yes…that’s a joke but I want to be headed in the direction that is true to my path of service. So yes, I asked for confirmation that the direction was correct. It’s like, “Yes I know I had all of those amazing events happen a couple weeks ago but was it real? Can I trust that I correctly interpreted the experiences? Can life be that amazing?”

Yes. It can be. And yes, I’m taking the leap. I haven’t worked this hard on my life’s path to suddenly give up because a bit of fear arose. I’m standing on that cliff. I’m looking around and down. I lift my arms and realize they are wings. A warm breeze rushes past. I rise and glide over the ocean. The direction is clear. It’s a fine day for flying.

******

There have been so many people that have been part of the warm breeze that lifts me up. The depth of support grows and adds strength to the wind. To each of you, I am deeply grateful.

Chair of Surrender

By Simone Lipscomb | March 27, 2013

After two days of rather strenous yard work I found myself listening to a guided meditation this afternoon in a most excellent and comfortable chair in my office. Feet comfortably elevated, orange cat curled up in my lap, I was totally supported by this amazing chair. I relaxed and went into the place I call the drool zone. Usually it happens when I am on a massage table and am so relaxed that drool slips out of my open mouth. But today, it was in was in my home office which I have recently cleared out, rearranged and named my office temple.

While the name office temple might sound a bit strange, I view my photography and writing as closely aligned and interwoven with my spiritual practice. Until recently, my thoughts about the work were directed out into the world almost constantly. My grief and concern over the abuse of our planet and its creatures weighs heavily on me. Often I have such frustration that I’m not doing enough or the work I have done (i.e. books, photographs) isn’t making a difference, isn’t out there far enough. And so this outward directed energy pulls me further and further off balance and I get more anxious and upset at the plight of the world. It’s a vicious cycle.

Then, over the past week or so, I have realized that the work I am called to do right now isn’t so much about ‘out in the world’ but rather inside my own heart and mind. Like the cycling of the seasons, we have our own cycles of rest, action, going within, going out.

With the help of an amazing bodywork therapist I am going deeper within myself and rediscovering the importance of simply being. If I surrender completely, everything will be made known that I need to know. But especially, what I need to do. Acting before this guidance is received can be exasperatingly futile.

I’m not suggesting that we focus on ourselves in a selfish or self-centered way. I’m simply advocating an inward focus to listen for guidance, to connect with the love and passion that pulls us to the work we feel led to do. When we put that as our first goal, everything else falls into place. In the right timing.

Recently I had a colleague on the spiritual path tell me that I was trying too hard, in more than one area of my life. Relax and allow it to happen from your place of inner quiet and peace, I was told. And as I’ve thought of that sage advice, I have come to a place of surrender. Not just about my environmental work but with everything and everyone in my life. My frustration has lessened, my patience increased and expanded. (sigh)

*Statue in Bicentennial Park, Greensboro, NC*

Sitting in my chair of surrender, I feel completely supported, at ease and relaxed. From this place of total trust, I am assured that all will unfold exactly as it is intended to unfold. In the right time, in the right direction and with exactly the right companions.