The Surrender Experiment: My Journey into Life's Perfection

by Mickey A. Singer

The scope of life is universal, and the fact that we are not actually in control of life’s events should be self-evident.

Each of us actually believes that things should be the way we want them, instead of being the natural result of all the forces of creation.

When we win the battle, we are happy and relaxed; when we don’t, we are disturbed and stressed. Since most of us only feel good when things are going our way, we are constantly attempting to control everything in our lives.

If the natural unfolding of the process of life can create and take care of the entire universe, is it really reasonable for us to assume that nothing good will happen unless we force it to?

what would happen if we respected the flow of life and used our free will to participate in what’s unfolding, instead of fighting it?

Am I better off making up an alternate reality in my mind and then fighting with reality to make it be my way, or am I better off letting go of what I want and serving the same forces of reality that managed to create the entire perfection of the universe around me?

My personal experience is that aligning one’s will with the natural forces unfolding around us leads to some surprisingly powerful results.

Not with a Shout—But with a Whisper

It was like I was suddenly able to remain above my mind and quietly watch the thoughts being created. Believe it or not, that subtle shift in my seat of awareness became a tornado that rearranged my entire life.

I was just there noticing that my sense of me no longer included the neurotic thought patterns that were passing in front of me.

Once you see it, you can’t imagine how you hadn’t seen it before. It was right there! Such was the shift that happened inside of me. It was so obvious—I was in there watching my thoughts and emotions. I had always been in there watching, but I had been too unaware to notice. It was as though I had been so involved in their details that I never saw them as just thoughts and emotions.

It was who I was now. I was the being who was watching the incessant flow of thoughts pass through the mind.

My yearning for inner silence became a passion. I knew what it was like to watch the voice. What I didn’t know is what it would be like if the voice totally stopped.

Getting to Know Me

I now had two driving forces awaken inside regarding this newly found voice in my head. One was the desire to shut it up and the other was the pure fascination and yearning to understand what that voice was and where it came from.

Every day I was learning so much about myself. I couldn’t believe the amount of self-consciousness and fear being expressed through that voice. It was so obvious that the person I was watching inside cared a great deal about what people thought of him.

It was overwhelming at times, but I never lost the perspective of watching a voice talking inside. It was obvious it wasn’t me; it was something I was watching.

“There’s a body of water down there, and that is where I’ve always been. But now I see that I can get out.”

The Pillars of Zen

Three Pillars of Zen, by Philip Kapleau.

Not only was there an entire legacy of knowledge spanning thousands of years that dealt with the voice, but this book clearly discussed “getting out.” It talked about freeing yourself from the hold of the mind. It talked about going beyond.

What Three Pillars of Zen had to say was very clear and unequivocal. It said to stop reading, talking, and thinking about your mind, and just do the work necessary to quiet it down. The required work was equally unambiguous—meditate.

Absolute Silence

I straightened my back and neck, and I began to concentrate on my breath expanding and contracting in my abdomen. The Zen book instructed me to make the Mu sound way down in my belly, below the belly button. I watched my breath go in and out from way down there.

Everything was so beautiful and tranquil. The silence, the absolute silence, even sounds outside did not disturb that stillness. The sounds were out there, but they seemed so far away from where I was seated inside. A moat of thick peace allowed nothing to reach the citadel of my elevated state.

From Absolute Peace to Absolute Turmoil

I started waking up at three in the morning to be able to do prolonged meditations. Throughout the day, I would sit whenever and wherever I had the opportunity. Only a small part of my life was about my outer existence. What I was really about was learning to stay deep inside while my outer life passed before me, leaving me at peace.

eventually realized that if I didn’t want to listen to the mental chatter, all I had to do was slightly increase my concentration on the energy flow to my brow.

The thoughts would then pass right by without disturbing me. Letting the thoughts go became a game to me. All of life was a lighter experience than before. My personal melodrama would still come up, but it could not pull me down into it. I had been gifted with this inner flow of energy to help me work my way out of myself. More important, I now knew what it would be like to get away from my personal self. My intention was firm and resolute—no matter what it took, or how long it took—I was going to find my way back beyond.

More and more I chose meditation. It was not just a way of escaping the pain; meditation gave meaning to my life. I was committed to going beyond—permanently—and the changes in my life were helping me get rid of an entire part of my being that was holding me back.

I just needed to be alone. My life was pretty simple. I was meditating, doing some yoga, and periodically I would go to class. I had no possessions except my schoolbooks, some clothes, and my VW van.

South of the Border

I was gradually learning that life was not as fragile as that voice in my head would have me believe. There were experiences to be had, but only if you were willing to have them.

After all, I hadn’t arranged for the perfect place to pull over and spend a few weeks in meditation and solitude, not to mention to have that kind visit from the boy. Life had provided those things to me; I had just followed the flow. I was beginning to see all these experiences as a gift from life.

Disconnecting the Panic Button

I went to my van and pulled out the large supply of brown rice and dried beans I had stored under the backseat. I handed them all over to the women preparing the food. The women were so appreciative that it almost made me cry. This stuff meant nothing to me and so much to them. This was another one of life’s lessons I never forgot: the joy of helping people.

How did this happen? To me there was no doubt about how it happened—I had let go of myself and something very special had followed. I was willing to face loneliness and fear and not grab for relief. Yet something happened on its own, without my doing it or even asking for it. The seeds of a great experiment were being planted. Was it possible that life had more to give us than we could ever take for ourselves?

Unexpected Inspiration

Learning to embrace life as it unfolded around me was new to me, and the results had been very freeing.

I would eventually learn that everything in life has something to teach you and that it is all for your growth.

When artists create a work, they first get the inspiration, and then they bring it down to the physical plane.

I had clearly seen the difference between creative inspiration and logical thought. I knew where thoughts came from, but where did inspiration come from? It came from a much deeper place than where I witnessed the thoughts. It came spontaneously, in total silence, with no effort or commotion.

I wondered if there was a way to tap into the brilliance of that inspiration on a regular basis. It would be years, but eventually I would learn that one can constantly live in that state of creative inspiration.

The Promised Land

decided to just keep my eyes open to see if something would show up by itself. Something did.

Building a Sacred Hut

It was another one of those beautiful moments that started me thinking—where were all these unbelievable experiences coming from? Somehow, deeply touching experiences kept coming from the most unexpected places. It was really starting to blow me away.

But if he thought I could do it, then I could—and I did. A great spiritual teacher once said, “Every day bite off more than you can chew, and chew it.” Life was teaching me some very important lessons.

By then, the house had taken on a life of its own. We had put our hearts and souls into building that house, and we were very proud of what we had accomplished. To me, it had started out as a project to build a quick, simple meditation hut, and it turned into a one-of-a-kind life experience. But it wasn’t the one I longed for. All I really wanted was to go into solitude and work on my heart’s only desire—absolute peace, stillness, and freedom. With the house finished, the time for that work had finally arrived.

November 1971: All I wanted was a tiny meditation hut—just look at what life gave us to build!