I Surrender

After selling my company in 2016, I thought I’d checked every box—PhD in taste, art, food, fashion. But spring came, and I realized: I’m not a human chasing spirit. I am spirit, surrendering into human life. This poem marks that awakening.

I did everything right—
built the life they told me to build,
checked every box, climbed every mountain,
became everything I thought I should be.
Yet quietly, gently, my heart asked,
“Is this really all there is?”

There were nights of magic—
moments when psychedelic journeys
softly dissolved my edges,
revealing radiant worlds beneath the stars.

Yet each morning, my rational mind returned,
careful, cautious, whispering:
“Maybe you’re just dreaming.
Maybe none of it is real.”

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Slowly, patiently, I gathered gentle proof—
synchronicities stacking,
miracles quietly multiplying—
until one tender day,
I sat lovingly with doubt itself.
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With fierce compassion,
I spoke softly:
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“Look at your life—
you’ve always been safe,
healthy, loved.
You exist;
that alone is a miracle.
Your existence itself proves
you’re sacred, special, divine.

Wake up, my love—
you are God.
Not from ego,
but because we all are,
each of us sacred fragments
of infinite love.”

I took the deepest breath of my life,
and from the center of my soul,
I finally released:

“AAAAhhhhhhhhh…
I surrender.”

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In that moment,
everything became clear.
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Today, my beliefs are strong,
yet gently held.
I’m free to trust,
expand,
and become.
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Life has always held me—
and now, in every breath,
I dance fully with life.
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I surrender.
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⛫ This stanza was in the original version but omitted from the Radio Edit.
⛫⛫ This stanza appears in the Radio Edit and not in the original version