What I Learned in Therapy

Hello, and welcome to your
meditation today on Ishvara Prana.

This is the last of the niyamas,
and it translates to surrender.

So find a space where you
can let your body come home.

And what I mean by that is.

Some of us are really lucky to walk
into our houses and kind of put our

bags down and take a big exhale and let
our shoulders fall 'cause we're home

and that signifies that we're safe,

we're protected, and that we're held.

And so let your body come home.

And as you do that, I'm gonna ask you
through our meditation to remember,

you are being held right now.

Even if you're not at home,

you are being held now

and just begin to slow the breath

and let it soften the edges of your day.

And feel the ground beneath you

and notice where you are,
what room you are in,

and notice that you're
not holding the room.

You don't have to hold
everything all at once

because in fact, you never have.

You have been carried by breath, by grace,

by wisdom, by history.

And by something much
larger than your suffering,

we are taught to push through

to muscle on white, knuckle
it to hold it together.

Prana is the practice of sacred surrender.

It is not giving up, but giving over
to something kinder, to something

wiser, something more knowing than
our attachments to our suffering.

It is a surrender to something
bigger than you call it.

What you like, God, Jesus,
Allah, Buddha, the universe.

Your home, your family,
your ancestors love.

Call it what you like.

The name doesn't matter.

The relationship to this container
that is holding you is what matters.

Surrender is the act of trusting
that something bigger than

you can hold you when you feel
like you cannot hold yourself.

This love has always held you.

Your breath, your presence, your
laughter, your very aliveness is proof

that you have been buoyed through
the depth and ache of this life.

You are here still you.

The you that makes you you

is still here.

This is the evidence that
something has carried you.

And I invite you to take
a very big, deep breath.

And ask yourself, what am I
still trying to carry alone?

Is it a pain?

No one witnessed

some grief that can't find words.

A fear maybe you haven't named.

A fear maybe that you have named.

And just notice,

let the breath take the layers of fear

to remind you that you are
still being held right now.

If the answer to these
questions, they cannot harm you,

they're just answers,

what are you still trying to carry alone?

We're not after the answer to change it.

We're after the answer to
witness it with compassion.

I think the truth of surrender is
that it doesn't happen in thought.

It doesn't happen in the mind.

It happens in the body.

I.

So let's let the body lead

bring to mind that thing
you're carrying alone.

Something that aches, something
that exhausts you, something

that was never yours to carry.

Never yours to fix.

And just breathe it in

and just hold it.

And when you're ready, exhale it back
into the universe, back into God, or

whatever you name it,

and then bring to mind that ache

and breathe it in

because it's suffering and it belongs too.

And as you exhale, see if you can give
it over to something bigger than you.

It is not to get rid of it.

Suffering belongs.

We have to make room for it.

I think we live under the illusion
that we are the only ones that should

get out of here without any suffering.

It is not to get rid of it.

It is that you don't need it anymore.

You can give it over to something wiser,

and keep this breath,
the breath of acceptance.

It does belong to me, this ache.

And maybe it helps to
put a hand to your chest.

I just put my hand to my chest.

Or maybe your belly.

And feel for yourself as
you melt into the knowing.

You don't have to carry all of this.

And the truth is you're
not doing it alone.

You've never been doing it alone.

Surrender is not weakness.

It is the greatest act of trust
we could ever offer ourselves,

and it's a practice returning to the
self again and again to surrender.

There is no greater gift we can give
ourselves than to know our pain so

well, we can surrender it because we
trust that that thing will hold us.

And then just take a big inhale.

And an exhale.

How do we know when
it's time to surrender?

It's when the pain gets sharp.

Some might say a trigger, a memory,

a comment from someone,

whatever it may be,
that is your trailhead.

If someone judges me
and I judge them back,

my wound is out.

And it's time for me to surrender and say
I'm giving this wound over to kindness.

If someone cancels their plans
with me and I'm angry, that is my

trailhead to understand the anger
and give it over to generosity.

If my partner doesn't live up to my
expectations and I am angry, my job

is to go back to my expectations
and give them over to something

greater than me, which is love.

This is surrender.

And what's left after surrender?

After you sit through the fire,

what's left is the essence, the divinity,
the uniqueness, the beauty of you.

Surrendering does not mean quitting.

It means that you've done the work.

That you've done the work to hold
yourself, that you've done the work,

that even when you feel like you can't
hold yourself, you know that you can

surrender, that you can give over
to something much greater than you.

You are not alone.

You have never been alone.

Love and grace have carried you.

We do the work and we get to
surrender to the essence and

the divinity of who we are.

This.

Is the ultimate gift

to honor yourself

with knowing your pain so well, that you
can continue to give it over to love.