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Mel Moseley's avatar

This is so beautiful, Alex. And maybe a little window into why I see you a bit as Valentine Michael Smith! "What if surrender to who you are now is the most radical act of self-love possible?" Yup! What if that!! Thanks so much for this share. <3

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Alexander Lovell, PhD's avatar

I'm still probably not THAT great at surrender. But, I'm trying. Haha! Thank you, my friend. So grateful for you. 🩵

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Nancy A's avatar

"The question is whether you're willing to trust the intelligence of who you are now." I've never really recognized the question, until reading this. Now that I have, I can truly start answering it. Thank you, my friend! This is the awakening I've needed! 🧡

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Alexander Lovell, PhD's avatar

I'm so glad that this found you right at this time! 🩵

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Heidi White's avatar

This spoke to me on so many levels. For me it’s now purple. And blue. I see both everywhere.

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Alexander Lovell, PhD's avatar

Thank you, my friend! So interesting how things change for us, and how these deeper meanings change with it. 🩵

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Ariel Hardy's avatar

Wow. So interesting. Orange is the color of the 2nd chakra which is the main grounding vortex in the body. Energy healers will use that 2nd energy center in the abdomen and low back to anchor a person to the ground. I think in some martial arts, they call it the Tan Tien.

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Alexander Lovell, PhD's avatar

Yes! I have secretly also been hoping it was related to that energy. Alas. It has been sticking around 😂

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Nancy Stordahl's avatar

Hi Alex,

First of all, I'm so glad you survived that horrible crash. Trauma like that changes you in more ways than one. It must've been, and likely continues to be, challenging figuring out the way your brain has rewired itself. The fact your brain has done that is quite miraculous in itself. Our capacity for healing is mind boggling.

As a cancer survivor, this resonates deeply. Society expects survivors to return to normal. Get back to the way we were before. Trouble is, that's not possible. The old me is gone - in some ways literally. I am forever changed after witnessing my mother die from breast cancer and then shortly thereafter being diagnosed myself. I sometimes joke that I'm like the bionic woman. Taken apart. Revamped. Reconstructed. Not good as new. But good enough.

I love this: "I'm collaborating with who I am now instead of mourning who I was." I admit, though, I do sometimes still mourn for the old me. I think it's important to give ourselves permission to do that too.

"Changed, rewired, different from who you were, and exactly who you need to be to live the life that's trying to live itself through you." Those are pretty awesome words, too, and quite inspiring. I will try to remember them.

Thank you for writing about something so personal. It's good learning more about you. And thank you for turning on the comments. I was wondering what had happened.

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Virginia Curtis's avatar

You might possibly be the most self-aware person I've ever encountered. I'm so glad that you're still here. That second chance carries so much promise! Embracing the orange can only be a fabulous adventure. Radical self-acceptance is revolutionary and life-affirming. Viva L'orange! Love ,V.

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Adrienne Webster's avatar

I love your thoughts on all of this. What an intense experience you continue to go through. This stuck out to me: "Here's what I'm learning about surrender: it's not giving up. It's finally showing up. As who you actually are. Right now." I love that. I need to remember that myself.

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Leslie Hunt Palumbo's avatar

I appreciate this article so much!! The idea that we may be constantly trying to fit ourselves in a past or future version of our “self” is so valuable to contemplate. That, and my son had an almost day, and I wonder now have I been subconsciously waiting for certain parts of him to return……he is very different, and so much better- the world is very lucky he survived- it’s truly incredible. The world is very lucky that you survived, too:).

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Beth L. Gainer's avatar

Hi Alex,

This is such a stellar post. I love all of the writing in this essay, but I'll just quote one sentence: "What if surrender to who you are now is the most radical act of self-love possible?" Yes, achieving surrender is totally an act of self-love; surrender is acceptance of where a person is now, not years ago or even a day ago.

I am so very glad you survived the accident.

I can relate to your piece, as my brain has not been the same since chemotherapy to treat my cancer -- 20+ years ago. The brain fog is difficult to cope with, and my words don't come to me when I'm speaking as they once did. Like you, though, I am so happy to connect with people on Substack -- people I would never have crossed paths with, had it not been for Substack.

I've eventually learned to surrender, and I express this through my art. Prior to cancer and treatment, I would never have painted. I was always artistic, but it was a hobby. Since cancer, it became a serious occupation for me. I identify as an artist and writer, which I never before did.

Thank you for such an insightful essay! I learned so much reading this.

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anyakara's avatar

Thank you for writing and sharing this with us. I'm a space of shedding and trying to step into a new identity after I had several Almost Days, and I've been struggling to believe I am this new version of me, or that I want to be. Reading your story really helped me come to peace with just being, and perhaps not so at war in my mind over this new rebirth.

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Teri Leigh 💜's avatar

I used to hate orange. Detest it. All I could think about orange was road construction. It meant that the world was a detour.

Then somewhere in the last three years, orange started showing up. Quietly. Almost sneaking its way into my brain and heart.

I now own two orange sofas.

Orange feels alive. Vibrant. A sizzle and tang of life.

I still love purple. And it turns out, orange and purple go rather nicely together!

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