WHen the Heart surrenders

I have been walking a spiritual path for more than twenty-five years. I have meditated, searched, learned, and experienced much. I have often spoken about my own power, about how everyone is the guru of their own life, and I believed that in the end everything would be found within me.

Then something happened that changed everything. First, I became ill and emptied out from everything. From all spirituality, from all ways of seeking and holding on. You can read the full story here. It felt as if life had taken away everything I had identified with. And right there, in that emptiness, a turning point happened. I had never even heard about bhakti before, but when it entered my life, it felt as if a veil was lifted from my eyes. Something small, and at the same time, everything changed.

The difference is actually very simple, yet deeply transformative. For a long time, I had already lived in flow and partly surrendered, but in the background there was still the thought that everything rested on me. On my growth, my development, my realizations. On some level, I still believed that I needed to find, to understand, and to heal. This is also what is often emphasized in Western spirituality and the new age field: that all the keys are inside you, find your own power, create your reality, and heal yourself. It can be empowering and an important phase, but there is always one central point: the “I” is at the center.

When bhakti came into my life, the focus shifted. Suddenly it was no longer about me or what I was doing, but about what the Divine was doing through me. In practice, this meant that I gave my whole life into the hands of the Divine. Not only the reins, but also the horses, the chariot, and the whole journey. Everything I had tried to control was now His. And exactly there, in what before would have felt like giving up power, I discovered the true receiving of power.

This shift of perspective touched not only my relationship with life in general, but also how I understand growth, healing, and wholeness. The perspective of bhakti was completely different from what I had been used to. In the spiritual field, healing is often set as the goal: when I heal, then I can be balanced, happy, and whole. Many also think that when I feel good, my loved ones will feel good, and that is true, because well-being reflects to those around us. But still, in this approach, the “I” remains at the center. Even when the goal looks unselfish, it still starts with me needing to be well first.

In bhakti, the perspective changes completely. Healing is no longer the goal to reach, but something that happens naturally when the heart opens to the Divine. If healing happens, it does not happen because I try to make it happen, but because the heart has opened and love flows. This does not mean that there are no practices in bhakti, on the contrary. Prayers, songs, mantras, and acts of service take us deeper into love and connection with the Divine. The difference is that they are not done in order to heal, but because of love itself. And then, if healing happens, it is not for my joy alone, but so that I can love more clearly, give thanks more deeply, and serve more purely, not only others, but also the Divine and everything that exists.

Bhakti transforms life so that its purpose is no longer to search for personal fulfillment or achievements. Instead, the very center becomes love for God and love for all. Practices like prayer or mantra are no longer tools to get somewhere, but natural expressions of this love. And even more deeply, bhakti is life itself, where every act and every moment can become an act of love when it is offered to the Divine.

And because bhakti is the life of love, its deepest essence opens only through surrender. True love cannot descend in any other way than when a human being lets go and makes space for the Divine. It is not something we can control, but it happens through grace. Surrender does not mean only to stop trying to control or to perform, but to realize that nothing has ever really been in my hands, not even when I thought I had already surrendered.

Surrender did not come to me as a decision of the mind, but as a moment when I could no longer carry everything. Falling ill opened the door into emptiness. Suddenly everything I had relied on, both outwardly and spiritually, was gone, and I was left in the middle of nothingness. Only there, on my knees and powerless, did the need for control melt away by itself. Surrender was not me deciding to give up, but life leading me to a point where there was no other choice than to let go. And right in that moment, a new kind of freedom opened. I do not need to carry everything alone, but I can give everything to the Divine and be an instrument through which love flows. In that, a peace opens that can only come through surrender.

When I now look back, I see that this emptiness and pain were not punishment but grace. They were a gift that led me to surrender. And if you ever find yourself in a situation where life seems to pull the ground from under your feet, maybe inside that too there can be a gift, one that opens the door to something deeper.

Since then, the Divine has taken the horses, the chariot, and the whole journey, and has carried me ever deeper on the path of love. Now this guidance takes me next Wednesday to Germany, to Sri Peetha Nilaya ashram. It is a bhakti ashram, a place where I can rest and surrender to love. It feels like coming home, and at the same time, there are butterflies in my stomach, because I have never been in an ashram before. Yet in my heart, I feel that I have walked its paths in many lives before, perhaps in the robes of a nun or a monk.

I promise to share with you about this journey and my experiences when I return. Maybe the words then can carry to you also a piece of the light and love that I know is waiting there. ♥