The surrender was found in the exhale.

There used to be a time when I remember I did not care who I was. 

I just was me. 

Maybe it was puberty or being violated by a boy you had a crush on or the pressure to be a size 0 and also live in a society where you are awarded by how well you can push down your feelings and compromise your belief.

Again it is back to that word believe. Inside that one word lives a lie that hinders one to be.

Now how can I be me when we are learned to believe something we have not yet even experienced.

I don't know what I am saying but I do know that I just chanted some syllables to bow to the creator, to the Devine teacher within.  It felt silly but I wanted to feel free.

I sat down in an easy pose. Crisscross apple sauce. Sat up straight, lightning my spine from my sacrum all the way my neck. I pressed my palms firmly together in prayer. Gently rested those hands at the center of my chest.

Inhale. I started with the 

Ong...

meaning the one who created you.
The surrender was found 

in the exhale.