Surrender

Remember that song 'I've Gotta be Me'? Well, here I sit, plain (or fancy) as day, and feel I'm still looking. Looking for that clear skinned beautiful face, exuding kindness that would surely rival Snow White and all of her dwarfy friends. What lengths will I go to, today, to be Me, to find Me?? These last 6 years, my door may have been open to opportunity and change, but I've also kept the window open too; letting in every raindrop, thunderstorm, hurricane in, so I can stomp on it, tear it down, being the Unsinkable Molly Brown and fight those problems and foibles to their death. When will it end?

As I look ahead at another year coming, I see my choices: Do I tell God about the storm again, or talk to the storm about God? My knees need to be deeply implanted in the soil, appreciating all that I have been given And all that has been taken away from me. If I'm a fighter in the true sense, I should see my image, in canine form, holding on to this pretty lil' thing called life in my teeth, while the big ol' hairy curmudgeon is trying to wrestle it away from me. Hair or none, today will I sink my teeth deeper and take what is rightly mine or begrudgingly give it up, whimpering with my tail between my legs?
Today I see part of the surrender as looking at the Fight not the Fighter. What part do we as the fighters play? Victim, Successor or audience throwing tomatoes, toast, whatever the wind blows in, as ammunition to make these fighter instincts in us shut the hell up?