ODE TO SURRENDER

Introduction

On the verge of an environmental crisis created by no other than human civilization, I cannot help but ask: what wisdoms have we overlooked in the name of progress? Some will blame materialism, politics, or ignorance. But what is the root mindset that has brought us here?

Looking around, I long for spontaneous human connection—free from fear, suspicion, or the threat of being seen as naïve. I want to make sounds and move freely, to let my emotions flow without raising concern for my mental state. I want to be slow, to feel the tactile presence of the ground, the walls, the trees, the air—without being labeled reckless or strange.

I want to surrender to the world, to another human, to my own senses. And yet I know this will collide with a social code, upholding a rigid system that does not reward such vulnerability. This inability to surrender makes me feel disconnected, tense, framed—as if I am only a cog in the machine of rationality and utility. I am expected to function, but not to feel. Surrender is reserved for the defeated, while the pursuit of power is lauded as the path to progress.

Surrender as an Inherent Part of Being

Quantum physics tells us something profound about reality: any given system contains both determinate and indeterminate variables. These are complementary and reciprocally dependent—where one is clear, the other is undefined (Barad 2007). This suggests that everything that exists consists of both active, assertive elements and vague, receptive, passive ones. There is a transmitter and a receptor in all things.

This echoes theories of human nature. G.H. Mead described the self as containing both an active source of behavior and a passive object of behavior (Mead 1934). Neuroscientist Karl Friston notes that humans, like all living organisms, experience both sensory (passive) and active states. The sensory state influences the internal world but not the external; the active state influences the external world but is itself uninfluenced (Friston 2020). Our “self” lives in the brain, and the brain lives in the body, relying on sensory epitheliums to gather data and affirm its existence.

Movement is essential. Through surrender to movement, we explore our sensory states. This process enriches our self-reflection and perception of the world. We learn through the action–perception cycle: “Perception and action are functionally intertwined—perception is a means to action, and action is a means to perception” (Sperry 1952). To truly sense, we must surrender ourselves to the world we wish to explore.

Our Perception of Surrender

How do we currently perceive surrender? Let’s start with language. The Cambridge Dictionary defines "surrender" as yielding to a force, often connoting failure or defeat. In pop culture, we find quotes like:

“Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside while still alive. Never surrender.” —Tupac Shakur

Surrender is thus framed as weakness, submission, even self-betrayal.

Compare this with Eastern thought:

“To the mind that is still, the whole world surrenders.” —Lao Tzu

Here, surrender is not defeat but a gateway to wisdom, stillness, and unity.

This contrast reveals a cultural imbalance. We overvalue action and dismiss the receptive. This mirrors colonial mindsets. Enlightenment ideals, which justified colonization and the reification of nature, were based on Cartesian dualism: the mind and body are separate; the mind dominates, the body obeys (Descartes, Skirry 2020).

Today, neuroscience and embodied cognition challenge this. But centuries of privileging reason over sensation have created a world suspicious of surrender. This ideological barrier contributed to exploitative systems—capitalizing on dominance, severing us from our sensory intelligence. The effects are evident: in gender dynamics, in ecological destruction, in national aggression, and in personal crises of mental health.

“The domination of one group over another is always endorsed by a set of beliefs that explains and justifies that domination.” —Newman (1997)

The glorification of action, rationality, and control—without honoring the value of surrender—has left us incomplete. We are taught to see worth only in assertion, strength, and productivity. Vulnerability becomes a liability. Nature is expected to yield to our power. But we fail to see that surrender is not the opposite of strength—it is its complement.

My Ode to Surrender

This essay is my act of reclamation. I wish to glorify surrender, to lift it out of the box of defeat, and reveal its beauty and liberation. In my practice, there is no preset choreography—only the immediacy of improvisation. I allow my body to respond before my rational mind can explain why. This, for me, is freedom.

Through exploring quantum physics, neurobiology, embodied cognition, semantics, and social theory, I have followed a personal need for deeper connection. This research has led me to create a physical and visual performance, born from a wellspring of sensorial knowledge. It is this knowledge I now offer to my audience.

ODE TO SURRENDER

Slow. I open my valves before I
Know. The concrete and the air and the moss on the stones, I
Dare. To let you, it, all into, to
Feel. There is no difference
Between. And yet, the body bursts to
Respond. To hold the pace of my want.