Surrender and Letting Go: Words Pointing to the Truth
- Tiffany Andras
- Jul 15
- 4 min read
In the tradition of Dzogchen Buddhism - the spiritual lineage closest to my own heart - there is a style of teaching (or directing or offering) known as Pointing-Out Instruction. Here, the teacher does not attempt to explain reality in words, but rather, they point, like a finger toward the moon, to the ineffable truth that can only be experienced directly.
As the great Dzogchen master Longchenpa wrote:
"Since the mind cannot be captured by concepts, the teacher points directly to the nature of the mind."
Similarly, one of my most beloved teachers, Mooji, often reminds us:
"The pointing is not the truth itself. It is the invitation to recognize the truth that is already alive within you."
For me, the ideas of "surrender" and "letting go" have become like the finger pointing at the moon - not the reflection of the moon in the water, but the moon itself. Neither is a goal or even a practice. They are invitations.
Not to accomplish something. Not to change yourself. But to fall awake into the timeless reality that has never left you, the truth of who you are and what this life is: Eternal, unchanging "love" itself.
The Rose of the Heart-Mind
This morning, I was deeply inspired by a moment of surrender during my meditation practice. I found myself (as often happens) in a moment of tension: resisting the swirl of thoughts and emotions, rejecting them in favor of quiet silence, stillness, and peace, when - as if by blessing or miracle - the energy of surrender swept over me, and I was released. No longer tensing against, resisting, rejecting or striving, I was freed to breathe and be with the moment and this beating heart with a deep, gracious tenderness.
That moment led to this series of articles, and if I could give you an image for this series, it would be this:
Imagine the bud of a rose, tightly closed, wrapped in the safety of its own flesh. Within it lies fragrance, beauty, color - the very song of life itself.
But until the bud softens, until the petals unfurl, that song cannot be heard. The scent cannot travel. The sun cannot kiss its innermost folds.
To let go is not to tear the petals away. It is to allow the opening.
To surrender is not to lose oneself. It is to open and let oneself be seen - inside and out - by the light that is already shining all around you and inside you.
Drawing a New Map
In times of transition, whether external or internal, our minds instinctively reach for the familiar. We cling to what we know, the roles you've held, the paths you've walked. You reach for the maps you've used to make sense of where you are.
But these old maps, drawn in a different season of life, often no longer fit the terrain you now find yourself in.
Psychologists refer to this as the liminal space - the threshold between what was and what will be (Bridges, 2004). It is uncomfortable and uncertain. And it is here, precisely here, where surrender and letting go begin to work their subtle alchemy.
They are not demands to erase the past, but gentle invitations to loosen our grip on it. To release the assumptions, roles, and identities that no longer serve.
To let the old map fall from our hands, so that we might feel the ground directly beneath our feet and begin to draw new ones.
The next two articles in this series will explore this more deeply:
Surrender: The art of trusting life enough to stop gripping the steering wheel. Through myths and modern cinema, we explore the invitation to get curious about fate and what truly keeps you trapped in the cycles and outcomes you so desperately want to avoid.
Letting Go: The wisdom of releasing the mental stories that keep you imprisoned from the freedom already available here. Based on the wisdom that arrived to my own heart in the heat of conflict many years ago, "Letting go is an act of liberation, not one of sacrifice." we explore the concepts and mental states that keep you trapped and separate from yourself, others, and the wondrous dance of life happening right now.
My hope, my wish, is that each article, each playful investigation will act not as a prescription, but as a pointing - a gentle finger pointing toward the moon, toward the river of joy, peace, satisfaction, and love that flows with you in this and every moment.
Because freedom is not a future event. It is not a goal.
Freedom is here - now - waiting only for the petals of your being to open to it.
Closing Invitation
Today, as you read these words, I invite you to notice:
How do the words "Surrender" and "Letting Go" FEEL, viscerally in your body?
Where is there clenching inside yourself? What do you not want to let go?
Where are you holding onto old maps? How do you see yourself, the people you love, and your life? Are these old maps limiting, restraining, based on the past?
Where might life be asking you to open, even if just a little more?
And when the mind says, "But how?" "I don't have time for this. I don't know how."
Remember the simple truth: The rose does not force itself to bloom.
It only stops holding itself closed.
References
Andrews-Hanna, J. R. (2012). The brain’s default network and its adaptive role in internal mentation. Neuroscience and Biobehavioral Reviews, 36(7), 2127–2142.
Bridges, W. (2004). Transitions: Making Sense of Life’s Changes. Da Capo Press.
Longchenpa. (14th century). Finding Rest in the Nature of the Mind. (Various translations.)
Mooji. (Multiple works; see Vaster Than Sky, Greater Than Space, 2017).
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