The Sacred Art of Surrender
Reframing control, cultivating trust, and choosing peace on purpose
Surrender is an intentional act of passivity, not one of relinquishing power but a posture of receptivity.
To receive is vulnerable.
Full surrender requires fundamental trust. Trust in my own being to hold and contain my experiences. Trust in the world to hold and contain my process. Trust in others to witness the un and re becoming in full acceptance.
To surrender, to fully relax into receptivity, is a Herculean task.
It requires letting go, trusting we don’t need to be in control. The release that beckons us from surrender is completely contrarian to the ways we have learned to exist in the world. Trauma teaches us we cannot trust in others, the world or ourselves.
Control often gives us the illusion of safety—a sense that if we plan enough, hold tightly enough, or predict every outcome, we can prevent pain or chaos. It feels empowering to be the one steering the ship, making the decisions, anticipating every wave. In that effort, control becomes a coping strategy, a protective mechanism rooted in the desire to avoid uncertainty and stay safe. It can feel grounding—like we’re doing something, like we’re in charge.
To surrender allows us to write our own narrative, instead of having ghost writers submit chapters to our life.
The process of letting go is not a simple one for trauma survivors. Surrender goes against all of the protective strategies our psyche builds up to protect us from the reckoning of trauma.
Control is often a fragile container. Life is inherently uncertain, and no amount of gripping can change that. There’s always more outside our control than within it: other people’s choices, the timing of things, the unfolding of life. Clinging too tightly to control can leave us anxious, disconnected, and exhausted. When we begin to loosen our grip, we make space for trust—trust in ourselves, in others, and in the greater unfolding of life. Real safety comes not from control, but from inner stability, flexibility, and self-trust.
Surrender has to be coupled with oodles of self compassion, grief, anger, baby steps and embodied self dialogue. Surrender is an unconditional acceptance that This Is, I Am. As It Is, As I Am. It is not ambivalent detachment, but a resting flow.
Take time to reflect on your relationship with surrender.
Where in my life am I gripping too tightly, and what am I afraid will happen if I let go?
(Explore the fear underneath the need for control.)
When have I listened to my intuition and things worked out—even if it wasn’t perfect?
(Revisit moments that built trust with yourself.)
What would trusting myself more look like in daily decisions, big and small?
(Visualize how self-trust could show up practically in your life.)
What beliefs about control have I inherited or absorbed, and are they still serving me?
(Reflect on family, culture, or past experiences that shaped your relationship with control.)
How might my body feel if I fully surrendered to the present moment?
(Tune into a somatic sense of release and grounded trust.)
I would love to hear your responses to these questions in the comments!