When I shared Surrender: Thoughts and Experiences, I expected fear but found connection instead. Readers have reflected back stillness, comfort, and trust. It showed me that letting go of control over how we are received is its own surrender, and that honesty often reaches farther than we imagine.

I used to believe control was the key to peace. On the court, in business, even while preparing to publish my book, I tried to engineer every detail. But the moments that mattered most were never the ones I planned. They were the surprises I couldn’t have scripted. Letting go hasn’t meant caring less. It has meant showing up fully, then releasing the rest. In that space, I’ve found more freedom, more trust, and a deeper connection to life itself.

Journaling gave my thoughts a place to land. Breath brought me back to the present. Softening my grip on outcomes helped me find peace in the unknown. These practices didn’t remove uncertainty, but they created space to see more clearly, to pause, and to trust that what unfolds might be even better than I imagined.

Toronto never slows, but I can. In the hum of streetcars and inbox pings, I choose breath over rush. Stillness is not a place. It is presence. I meet the city with soft focus and steady heart, and peace finds me on Queen Street, coffee in hand, walking home at dusk.

Once, surrender felt like failure. Letting go seemed like losing. Healing taught me otherwise. When I stopped forcing and simply showed up, doors opened. Surrender is courage: open hands, steady heart, faith over fear. Not an ending. The beginning.