Seagull Thoughts

Insights on connecting, communicating, and community by Mary Ann Siegel

Archive for Nicholas Kristof

Surrendering to the Power of the Moment

The word ‘surrender’ has been on my mind this past week. It’s hard to surrender the past. I get into trouble when I respond to people and situations with my mind, or ego. I want to let go of all I think will get me through difficult encounters, stop resisting, and just let things be.

At the beach last weekend with my daughter I carried along Eckhart Tolle’s Practicing the Power of Now. It was a gift to her from my older daughter. But when she said she had too much to read between now and Christmas and could I give it to her then, I started it. It’s one of my favorite books ever because it’s so timely.

After experiencing excruciating pain in a recent breakup – where I’d acknowledged to myself, as part of my healing, that words expressed to me felt not only unfair but cruel – I knew I needed to learn how to surrender more gracefully to the moment; notice my feelings and let my acceptance create a space for love and grace to enter. Surrendering to the power of the moment gets us out of our mind where negative thoughts reside; it doesn’t mean we don’t speak up for ourselves. The goal is to let Being become more important than Doing so that we shake off potential conflict.

Last night this new technique came alive and made sense when I watched the riveting documentary, Reporter, with my long time friend Lucy who asked me to be her guest at the fundraiser for The Atlanta Women’s Foundation. It was about The New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof’s 2007 trip to the Democratic Republic of Congo to assess the situation there, and find an individual around whom he could state his case for aid. Through adventure after adventure, in village after village, the resilience and strength of the people balances their reality of desperate poverty, pillaged land, displacement, rape, starvation and disease. A continent of stark contrasts Africa is.

Kristof’s modus operandi of researching a story was the illustration I needed of how to surrender to the moment. I was already familiar with his quote, “In general, when you interview warlords or people heading militias you don’t get interesting answers unless you raise tough questions. You do that, knock wood and hope for the best.” He did that throughout, relentlessly, by inquiring, stating what he wanted, always moving, covering ground, waiting and listening until he got the facts he was looking for.

Kristof took tremendous risk in trusting the power of the moment. After his hoped for but dreaded interview with a militia warlord, he and his crew were invited for dinner at the compound. The situation was dire. They felt they couldn’t refuse but their safety demanded that they leave early enough to travel the four hours back home before dark. However, they gave in and not only experienced one of the best meals of their stay in Africa but also received protection: the warlord sent armed guards to accompany them, along with relaying commands to his militias along the road that the reporter and his crew were not to be attacked. It was tense to watch, perhaps because I’d been thinking about my own habits of resistance; my need to move on and not linger to witness the result, even though it could be wondrous instead of disastrous. 

I admit I have difficulty in surrendering – inviting or creating space for grace to enter. But there’s no reason I can’t become more open, like Kristof, to a new presence or way of Being. Miraculous things had happened during his time with the warlord. The interview had produced the statement that rape was permissible in time of war as well as a teenage fighter’s plea for forgiveness for his wartime atrocities. And Kristof’s crew had been given protection on their journey home. Could these things have transpired without his having surrendered to the power of the moment? If a reporter could achieve his goals with strangers in time of war, there was hope for me in my most meaningful relationships.

How we negotiate our conversations – a minefield for so many reasons – is dependent upon our ability to get out of our heads and allow big stuff to happen on the spot; inexplicable stuff, good stuff, stuff beyond our control. Like Kristof, we can only set things in motion and then let go and hope for the best. Though learning this process comes on blind faith at first, I trust that good things will come out of my surrendering to the warlord that sometimes lives inside me, and the warlords outside that talk to me harshly and heartlessly. Perhaps a braver spirit and example on my part could inspire the warlords around me to not feel threatened.

My receptivity to a new way of Being alternates between being terribly scary and terribly exciting. Yet every time I turn on the automatic pilot switch, I discover there is help along the road  in the dead of night when I least expect it. The protectors I find the most helpful come unarmed. They just bear witness to my Being. And that gift is everything because it inspires me to give it to myself.