Your reflection on surrender and self-acceptance resonates deeply, particularly in a world that often equates worth with productivity. The idea of surrender as a "gravitational pull" away from hyper-arousal is a powerful metaphor—it suggests that stillness isn’t inertia, but a return to an innate rhythm, like roots drawing nourishment from the soil.
Nature, as you note, teaches this effortlessly: a tree does not strain to grow; it simply bends toward light and water, trusting the process. I really like the open, expansive and forest feelings - being with the kin.
What strikes me most is the distinction between resistance and creation. Resisting reality often stems from fear—the fear of inadequacy, impermanence, or losing control. Yet in that resistance, we fragment ourselves, fighting currents instead of letting them carve us into something wiser.
Creation, by contrast, feels like collaboration with life. It’s the difference between chiseling a stone in frustration and sculpting with the grain, allowing the material itself to guide the art.
But surrender is not passive. It asks for courage—to release the illusion of control and listen to the quiet wisdom beneath the noise. In a culture that glorifies "hustle," pausing to ask, "Where are my actions rooted?" becomes radical. Are they sprouting from scarcity, a need to prove, fix, or escape? Or from a deeper well of presence, where action aligns with what is, not what we insist should be?
This tension mirrors the paradox of nature: a storm is both chaos and a catalyst for renewal. It has been like that the whole week. Similarly, surrendering to "what is" doesn’t negate agency—it reframes it. (In my case, I am simply way over the word limit on my work but struggle to organise it.) We act not on life, but with it. This PhD is my life now and I'm just unable to do anything else well. The dance you mention isn’t about perfection; it’s about responsiveness, a dialogue between effort and ease and I wish I could make that happen in my work. This PhD is the storm—chaotic, all-consuming, yet generative
Your words remind me that true creation—whether art, relationships, or a life—emerges from this harmony.
Thank you for the invitation to reflect. It’s a timely nudge to step out of the whirlwind and into the rhythm of the dance and swim and bends, even if my knees are hurting.
I love travelin out of the US ta foreign lands . Love meetin new people who are willin ta share their culture wit me. I was always treated so kindly . Got sick a few time’s, but hey! Sometimes that happens. Loved India.
Hey Jesi, so nice to hear your reflections. Travel is great, even when we get sick! Plus North India is where my mum's family is from so has a special place in my heart. Much love 💛
Beautiful. Your photos conveyed a softness with the sunlight filtered through the trees, or the brightness of sun on water held by the soft greens and browns of nature. I am blessed to be living here in New Zealand with trees all around me and views of the sea. I go swimming at the end of our road, a little bay surrounded by native trees but facing out to a wide and distant horizon. Floating in the water gives me a sense of liminality, that space between earth and sky which is infinite, spacious, clear and empty. It's like a somatic meditation or spiritual practice where my body and soul can relax and replenish, and then the trees ground me back in to the world. So grateful for the simple pleasures of nature.
This sounds sublime. Being immersed in water is one of my gateways to peace and aliveness too, and you've described it so beautifully. So happy you get to experience that regularly, what a treasure to have at the end of your street!
Would love an India stamped postcard. Tropical trails, but where is the fruit of trees and an animal, bird, dog, cat or were they meditating in the bush with prayers for rain. I was lost by “we” but saw no us; perhaps was all within the forest flight to a state where walks are possible ways of reaching a sea beach that waves.
I'm afraid my photography (or maybe my presence) probably scared away all the animals! It's hard to catch the exact moment when we're visited by a bird or a creature... I'm usually caught up in experiencing it rather than taking a photo.
PS. I used "we" because I was travelling with someone else :)
I absolutely LOVE this. Thank you for sharing. I know this place of deep connection - when I put myself on a 3 month isolation retreat out in nature back in 2017 and had a total detox of everything - I was left with myself and my thoughts. So many amazing things happened on that self-imposed retreat. And.....your beautifully expressed words reminded me of how long it has been since I have done that. So thank you, and next time you go to Goa I want to come....LOL - You are a beautiful writer Vaishali.
Your reflection on surrender and self-acceptance resonates deeply, particularly in a world that often equates worth with productivity. The idea of surrender as a "gravitational pull" away from hyper-arousal is a powerful metaphor—it suggests that stillness isn’t inertia, but a return to an innate rhythm, like roots drawing nourishment from the soil.
Nature, as you note, teaches this effortlessly: a tree does not strain to grow; it simply bends toward light and water, trusting the process. I really like the open, expansive and forest feelings - being with the kin.
What strikes me most is the distinction between resistance and creation. Resisting reality often stems from fear—the fear of inadequacy, impermanence, or losing control. Yet in that resistance, we fragment ourselves, fighting currents instead of letting them carve us into something wiser.
Creation, by contrast, feels like collaboration with life. It’s the difference between chiseling a stone in frustration and sculpting with the grain, allowing the material itself to guide the art.
But surrender is not passive. It asks for courage—to release the illusion of control and listen to the quiet wisdom beneath the noise. In a culture that glorifies "hustle," pausing to ask, "Where are my actions rooted?" becomes radical. Are they sprouting from scarcity, a need to prove, fix, or escape? Or from a deeper well of presence, where action aligns with what is, not what we insist should be?
This tension mirrors the paradox of nature: a storm is both chaos and a catalyst for renewal. It has been like that the whole week. Similarly, surrendering to "what is" doesn’t negate agency—it reframes it. (In my case, I am simply way over the word limit on my work but struggle to organise it.) We act not on life, but with it. This PhD is my life now and I'm just unable to do anything else well. The dance you mention isn’t about perfection; it’s about responsiveness, a dialogue between effort and ease and I wish I could make that happen in my work. This PhD is the storm—chaotic, all-consuming, yet generative
Your words remind me that true creation—whether art, relationships, or a life—emerges from this harmony.
Thank you for the invitation to reflect. It’s a timely nudge to step out of the whirlwind and into the rhythm of the dance and swim and bends, even if my knees are hurting.
Thank you for your thoughtful comment. Rooting for you with the PhD :)
Aloha 🐸
Always love readin your works 🤙🏽
Appreciate cha sharin yur journeys .
I love travelin out of the US ta foreign lands . Love meetin new people who are willin ta share their culture wit me. I was always treated so kindly . Got sick a few time’s, but hey! Sometimes that happens. Loved India.
I was up in da north Laxman Juhula
a small town next ta da Gangas River.
Anyhoo ! Lv travelin💕
Hey Jesi, so nice to hear your reflections. Travel is great, even when we get sick! Plus North India is where my mum's family is from so has a special place in my heart. Much love 💛
Beautiful. Your photos conveyed a softness with the sunlight filtered through the trees, or the brightness of sun on water held by the soft greens and browns of nature. I am blessed to be living here in New Zealand with trees all around me and views of the sea. I go swimming at the end of our road, a little bay surrounded by native trees but facing out to a wide and distant horizon. Floating in the water gives me a sense of liminality, that space between earth and sky which is infinite, spacious, clear and empty. It's like a somatic meditation or spiritual practice where my body and soul can relax and replenish, and then the trees ground me back in to the world. So grateful for the simple pleasures of nature.
This sounds sublime. Being immersed in water is one of my gateways to peace and aliveness too, and you've described it so beautifully. So happy you get to experience that regularly, what a treasure to have at the end of your street!
Would love an India stamped postcard. Tropical trails, but where is the fruit of trees and an animal, bird, dog, cat or were they meditating in the bush with prayers for rain. I was lost by “we” but saw no us; perhaps was all within the forest flight to a state where walks are possible ways of reaching a sea beach that waves.
I'm afraid my photography (or maybe my presence) probably scared away all the animals! It's hard to catch the exact moment when we're visited by a bird or a creature... I'm usually caught up in experiencing it rather than taking a photo.
PS. I used "we" because I was travelling with someone else :)
Thanks. Animals arrive when they feel coast is clear. Hope we: had great time.
I absolutely LOVE this. Thank you for sharing. I know this place of deep connection - when I put myself on a 3 month isolation retreat out in nature back in 2017 and had a total detox of everything - I was left with myself and my thoughts. So many amazing things happened on that self-imposed retreat. And.....your beautifully expressed words reminded me of how long it has been since I have done that. So thank you, and next time you go to Goa I want to come....LOL - You are a beautiful writer Vaishali.
Thank you! Retreats are so powerful, especially out in nature. Next time I'll invite you ;)
Yes or maybe we can run a retreat together.....