Oh, Jonas, sometimes surrender is the first step to salvation (I swear, no religious meaning intended). Your few words pack a big punch. But are surrender and giving up synonymous...
I agree with l'uragano, Jonas. Surrender and giving up really are not synonymous.
You can give up on yourself, give up on life in general; you can give up on something that is not good for you (which would be a good thing), just as you can surrender yourself to the depths of depair, or you can surrender the fear that has been keeping you from living life to the fullest.
What is your choice, Jonas? What are you giving up... or giving up on?
Let me set your hearts at ease. I find myself, once again, at Ground Zero. Dashed plans and shattered hopes mock. Trust and faith bludgeoned, the meanings of words lost or indecipherable, I feel eviscerated...a hollow man, too dazed and weak to dream.
hello, the way i read "I. Give. Up." I did not get a sense of giving up like fuggettabbouttit. I saw it as "giving" and as "giving up" (giving in an upward direction) to me it seemed like you were saying "let go"or "give it to God" and yes "surrender" but without the accompanying idea that surrender invokes: that of "losing face" in some kind of battle, choosing not to fight because you know you cant win, leaving the scene of a conflict with tail between legs no not at all I did not see surrender or giving up in that way at all, I saw it as a release of chaos into the hands of a "higher power" so to speak, I wonder if you had that in mind when you wrote it that way
I wish you strength, strength to hold on, and strength to let go……
I do not know if you have ever read Zorba the Greek. Here are two quotes from it:
As he kicks a stone "downhill, Zorba turns to the scholar and asks: "Boss, did you see that? On slopes, stones come to life again." .......so maybe the slippery slope you are on at the moment will lift you to a life you do not yet know.
And my favourite passage which I have framed in my study:
I dressed and went down to the water’s edge. I walked quickly. I was gay, as if I had escaped from a danger or sin. My indiscreet desire of that morning to pry into and know the future before it was born suddenly appeared to one a sacrilege. I remembered one morning when I discovered a cocoon in the bark of a tree, just as the butterfly was making a hole in its case and preparing to come out. I waited a while, but it was too long appearing and I was impatient. I bent over it and breathed on it to warm it. I warmed it as quickly as I could and the miracle began to happen before my eyes, faster then life. The case opened, the butterfly started slowly crawling out and I shall never forget my horror when I saw how its wings were folded back and crumpled; the wretched butterfly tried with its whole trembling body to unfold them. Bending over it, I tried to help it with my breath. In vain. It needed to be hatched out patiently and the unfolding of the wings should be a gradual process in the sun. Now it was too late. My breath had forced the butterfly to appear, all crumpled, before its time. It struggled desperately and, a few seconds later, died in the palm of my hand. That little body is, I do believe, the greatest weight I have on my conscience. For I realise today that it is a mortal sin to violate t eh great laws of nature. We should not hurry, we should not be impatient, but we should confidently obey the eternal rhythm. I sat on a rock to absorb this New Year’s thought. Ah, if only that little butterfly could always flutter before me to show me the way.
Jonas, it is hard and bewildering and frightening and empty to be in a place of transformation. Like the butterfly, I wish you every blessing for a beautiful unfolding of your wings and may you feel the sun kiss your cheeks and breathe its warmth on your body and soul as you seek your life anew out of the cocoon of despair and emptiness.
Sorry to have taken up so much of your blog comment space.
Thank you, Selma. I'm hangin' on by the skin of my teeth.
Pleased to meet you, Tipota. I wish I had the words to explain what I meant but you are on the right track. It is a surrendering of wants, hopes, dreams...a surrendering to whatever may come...a giving up of whatever one gives up when all is lost and all one has left is prayer (even if no one is listening).
Oh, Your Highness! Your comments always hit their mark. Remarkably enough, I had been pondering that specific Kazantzakis quote many times over these past few weeks (I kid you not). I've come to know that patience with oneself AND with those we love is an essential virtue. Would that we gave all hearts whatever time necessary to blossom.
Transformation is a painful process, to be sure. I am so very grateful to ALL of you for your supportive words, encouragement and friendship. Your kindness means so very much...much more than I can express.
16 Comments:
Oh, Jonas, sometimes surrender is the first step to salvation (I swear, no religious meaning intended). Your few words pack a big punch. But are surrender and giving up synonymous...
Why so glum?
I agree with l'uragano, Jonas. Surrender and giving up really are not synonymous.
You can give up on yourself, give up on life in general; you can give up on something that is not good for you (which would be a good thing), just as you can surrender yourself to the depths of depair, or you can surrender the fear that has been keeping you from living life to the fullest.
What is your choice, Jonas? What are you giving up... or giving up on?
Jonas, ?????
Let me set your hearts at ease. I find myself, once again, at Ground Zero. Dashed plans and shattered hopes mock. Trust and faith bludgeoned, the meanings of words lost or indecipherable, I feel eviscerated...a hollow man, too dazed and weak to dream.
I shall survive, but who/what will I become?
You will rise, resplendent.
"You will rise, resplendent.
I wish. Oh, how I wish!
Giving up can be a chance for transformation. The main thing is not to lose hope. Hang in there, hon.
hello, the way i read "I. Give. Up." I did not get a sense of giving up like fuggettabbouttit. I saw it as "giving" and as "giving up" (giving in an upward direction) to me it seemed like you were saying "let go"or "give it to God" and yes "surrender" but without the accompanying idea that surrender invokes: that of "losing face" in some kind of battle, choosing not to fight because you know you cant win, leaving the scene of a conflict with tail between legs no not at all I did not see surrender or giving up in that way at all, I saw it as a release of chaos into the hands of a "higher power" so to speak, I wonder if you had that in mind when you wrote it that way
Jonas Dearheart,
I wish you strength, strength to hold on, and strength to let go……
I do not know if you have ever read Zorba the Greek. Here are two quotes from it:
As he kicks a stone "downhill, Zorba turns to the scholar and asks: "Boss, did you see that? On slopes, stones come to life again." .......so maybe the slippery slope you are on at the moment will lift you to a life you do not yet know.
And my favourite passage which I have framed in my study:
I dressed and went down to the water’s edge. I walked quickly. I was gay, as if I had escaped from a danger or sin. My indiscreet desire of that morning to pry into and know the future before it was born suddenly appeared to one a sacrilege. I remembered one morning when I discovered a cocoon in the bark of a tree, just as the butterfly was making a hole in its case and preparing to come out. I waited a while, but it was too long appearing and I was impatient. I bent over it and breathed on it to warm it. I warmed it as quickly as I could and the miracle began to happen before my eyes, faster then life. The case opened, the butterfly started slowly crawling out and I shall never forget my horror when I saw how its wings were folded back and crumpled; the wretched butterfly tried with its whole trembling body to unfold them. Bending over it, I tried to help it with my breath. In vain. It needed to be hatched out patiently and the unfolding of the wings should be a gradual process in the sun. Now it was too late. My breath had forced the butterfly to appear, all crumpled, before its time. It struggled desperately and, a few seconds later, died in the palm of my hand. That little body is, I do believe, the greatest weight I have on my conscience. For I realise today that it is a mortal sin to violate t eh great laws of nature. We should not hurry, we should not be impatient, but we should confidently obey the eternal rhythm. I sat on a rock to absorb this New Year’s thought. Ah, if only that little butterfly could always flutter before me to show me the way.
Jonas, it is hard and bewildering and frightening and empty to be in a place of transformation. Like the butterfly, I wish you every blessing for a beautiful unfolding of your wings and may you feel the sun kiss your cheeks and breathe its warmth on your body and soul as you seek your life anew out of the cocoon of despair and emptiness.
Sorry to have taken up so much of your blog comment space.
*Snowqueen*
Jonas,
If I can't "Give up" then you can't either...no?
Who/what will you become?
Stronger~
Jonas, we never know who we will become on the other side.
Looking forward to it...
also, snowqueen, thanks so much for reminding me of Zorba. Will reread immediately.
Thank you, Selma. I'm hangin' on by the skin of my teeth.
Pleased to meet you, Tipota. I wish I had the words to explain what I meant but you are on the right track. It is a surrendering of wants, hopes, dreams...a surrendering to whatever may come...a giving up of whatever one gives up when all is lost and all one has left is prayer (even if no one is listening).
Oh, Your Highness! Your comments always hit their mark. Remarkably enough, I had been pondering that specific Kazantzakis quote many times over these past few weeks (I kid you not). I've come to know that patience with oneself AND with those we love is an essential virtue. Would that we gave all hearts whatever time necessary to blossom.
Transformation is a painful process, to be sure. I am so very grateful to ALL of you for your supportive words, encouragement and friendship. Your kindness means so very much...much more than I can express.
It takes a wise man to know when to just let things be.
And for whatever its worth, I agree with Flutter... resplendent indeed.
Resplendent, Anna!?!
No. Methinks not.
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