
In January I went to my dear friend’s wedding in Seattle. I was able to pop into my favorite boutique (twice!) while I was there. I found a stack of vintage playing cards and selected the number 13. 2013 was newly upon us and my girlfriends, sister-in-law and I had already dubbed this year “Lucky ‘13.” I also found a basket of typed out quotes and searched for one I could declare my mantra for the year. Here is what I found:
Do everything with a mind that lets go.
If you let go a little, you will have a little peace.
If you let go a lot, you will have a lot of peace.
If you let go completely, you will know complete peace and freedom.
Your struggles with the world will have come to an end.
--Achaan Chah
Now, this quote is a little Loosy Goosy, but it conveyed the posture that was essential to my survival this year: Surrender. I framed these two tokens, hung them on my wall and surrendered my hope for a “Lucky ‘13.”

I know I am walking on thin ice, here. For all my dear friends who are still TTC (Trying to conceive), I realize that my spouting out that you should “surrender” not only seems cliche, but it probably sounds judgemental. Because surrendering a dream that you dream every waking and sleeping moment in damn near impossible. Of course Eric and I were overjoyed when we got the positive pregnancy test. But I will say that I felt like I was betraying my TTC community. I woke up one day and it was me on the other side of the fence. I don’t know why my time is now.
I asked my sweet pregnant girlfriend (who is much further along than me) how pregnancy has most changed her. She answered that it’s in her love and empathy for others. She has found herself praying earnestly for friends in need and grieving the woes of the world. I am starting to feel the same. Empathy is creeping back into my life (it slithered out after years of being a flight attendant...sad, but true) and I break for the brokenhearted.
Tonight I pray for those in want of something. I pray for a perfect blend of grasping tightly and letting go, of doing and not doing, for that nuanced relationship of luck vs. providence, and for a gentle reminder that our stories have already been written.