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.