I had the word Surrender tattooed on my left wrist in 2014—a milestone moment, etched in ink. For months and months I tested the word and the place with a Sharpie. I wanted to be sure that it would be a message for all times of life, something that would resonate and hold true no matter my position in the ever-changing world. It wasn’t just a design choice—it was a decision to honor what I knew would continue to unfold. Something that would still matter decades from now. It does. (And yes, I tested it in Sharpie first. For months. That’s just how I roll.)

Indeed, it has proved to be a very valuable and ongoing message that resonates. Apparently, I have spent my entire life, possibly since my first breath when I got whacked, until now, resisting. Resisting people, places, things, nature, life, my good ideas, my creative ideas, my bad ideas, numbing out, avoiding and resisting… my top three unhealthy priorities.

Anything that has taken on such a vital part of my programming is bound to take time to release and reprogram. I encountered a whole new and curious level of resistance when it comes to day-to-day operations, people, and behaviors. It’s easiest to explain in terms of expectations and disappointment; passion and apathy.

I expect people to be awake and kind; I’m constantly disappointed by what I perceive as humans acting stupid and mean or aware and malicious… This sense of justice and injustice in the world at large has caused me angst and frustration, resentment and suffering… I HAVE allowed my resistance to human nature as it is, reality, to get to me and make me angry, anxious, and hopeless. I take full responsibility for this dis-service to myself. I didn’t know what I didn’t know.

Now that it’s clear that Reality just IS and it’s not my fault or my job to fix it… holy cow, what a relief! The ripples and waves of relief keep coming on shore and washing over me, again and again! How lovely! This surrender is not defeat. It’s oxygen. It’s softness. It’s room to move, breathe, and respond differently. I didn’t know how much tension I was holding until I started to let go.

My natural healing and wholeness progresses as I come to peace with nature, with humans, with Reality. This is the way for me to explore my relationship with myself, with food, and with exercise and self-care. No other path will provide long-term, meaningful unity and peace. And when this particular journey is concluded, I look forward to the next challenge. And so I stare at the word on my wrist and marvel at the wonders revealed in such a simple word and the wisdom that showed up when I chose it as a lifelong reminder.

One I accepted without knowing the full journey it would take me on. I’m so glad I said yes. And next time I test a milestone in Sharpie? I’ll know to pay attention—it’s probably sacred. Honestly, this tattoo joins a growing collection of body-based wisdom. It lives in good company alongside Listen With a Pretty Heart and, of course, Paws to Wonder. That last one always makes me smile—because sometimes it really does just take a pause. Or a paw. Or both. To remember that presence is power, curiosity is holy, and wonder never fails.

Turns out, my tattoos aren’t declarations. They’re invitations. They whisper when I forget, nudge when I stall, and remind me that wisdom isn’t something I find—it’s something I’m learning to live. Inked in, yes. But also unfolding, pulse by pulse, moment by moment. One word at a time.

(And for anyone feeling squeamish about tattoos—no worries. You can stick with a Sharpie and keep your epidermis tattoo needle free. I did for months. But some reminders are just too good not to make permanent.)