Give up!!

Give up.

Everyone says the opposite. Don't give up. Don't quit. Fight the battle. Hold the line. Push through. They have turned struggle into a religion and exhaustion into a virtue. They have convinced you that the clenched fist is the only respectable posture. That dropping your arms means losing. That surrender is for the weak.

I say unto you. Give up.

There is nothing you can do. Not because you are powerless. Because the fight you are fighting is not real. Look at your hands. Your fists are clenched. Your teeth are clenched. Your jaw is a vise. Your shoulders are up near your ears. Your nerves are stretched like rubber bands about to snap. You have been like this for years. Decades. Maybe your whole life.

What is the point?

You have to breathe out to take the next breath. You cannot hold your breath forever. The body will force you to release. That is not failure. That is physiology. The lungs empty. The diaphragm relaxes. The air leaves. Then and only then does new air enter.

Give up. Let go. Drop dead. Not suicide. Not despair. Just... release. Just stop holding. Just let the air leave your body and do not grab for the next one. See what happens.

You will still breathe. The body knows how to survive. It knew before you were born. It will know after you are gone. You did not learn to make your heart beat. You did not study the mechanics of digestion. You did not attend a workshop on how to regulate your temperature. The body knows. The body remembers. The body will keep going whether you are clenched or not.

So give up. Give it to the upper hands. The ones that were there before you arrived. The ones that will be there after you leave.

---

You did not get anxious to be born. You did not fill out a form. You did not prepare a presentation. You did not rehearse a pitch. You just... arrived. From a womb. From an unknown woman. From a moment of pleasure or pain or something in between. You had no choice in the matter. You did not earn your birth. You did not deserve it. It was given.

You will not get anxious to die. The heart will stop. The breath will leave. The body will cool. You will not be consulted. You will not be asked for your opinion. You will drop dead one day. Maybe today. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe forty years from now. You do not control that. You have never controlled that.

So what are you holding on to?

You cannot hold on to a single breath. It comes. It goes. You cannot catch it. You cannot keep it. It is not yours. It is borrowed. Like everything else. Your mother. Your father. Your wife. Your relatives. Your friends. Your son. Your daughter. Everyone will drop dead. One by one. In order or out of order. Before you or after you. For damn sure. Everyone will die.

What will you hold on to then? How long can you hold it? Forever is not available. Not to you. Not to anyone.

You cannot even hold on to your own fart. Think about that. The body produces gas. It builds pressure. It releases. You cannot stop it. You cannot schedule it perfectly. You cannot control it. You are a passenger in a body that does what it wants. Always has. Always will.

Release the breath. Release the fist. Loosen the nerves. Drop dead. Give up.

And check. Are you still breathing?

Yes. You are. You will. The body knows how to survive. Come what may. Unless it is a life taking situation. But this is not that. This is just you. Clenching. Fighting. Holding on to nothing. The body is fine. The body is waiting for you to stop being an idiot. The body knows how to breathe. The body knows how to digest. The body knows how to heal. The body does not need your anxiety. The body does not need your clenched fists. The body just needs you to get out of the way.

---

When the body is in survival mode, the mind changes. It stops being a clingy, demanding, attention-craving dog. It becomes a warrior. Not the kind in movies. The quiet kind. The kind that does not waste energy on worry because energy is for running, for hiding, for fighting, for finding water. The mind aligns with the necessity of the body. That is nature. That is the way.

You have those instincts. They are not lost. They are not broken. They are not gone. They are in your DNA. Waiting. They have been there for millions of years. They manifested in your ancestors when they needed to survive. They will manifest in you when you need them. Not when you are scrolling. Not when you are worrying. Not when you are clenching your jaw in traffic. When the body needs to survive. When the stakes are real. When the water is gone and the food is scarce and the predator is near.

A dog knows where to put what. A cat knows. A lion knows. A buffalo knows. No one teaches them. They do not watch porn. They do not go to biology lectures. Nature put everything in everything. When needed, it comes up. If it does not come up, perishing is the only outcome. That is the deal. That has always been the deal.

So to thrive. To survive. To breathe. You do not have to hold on. You have to let go. You have to get to your basics. Your doggishness. Your lionishness. The part of you that existed before religion, before politics, before ideologies, before the endless chatter of the mind.

Raise your fist. Then fall. Die on a mental level. Not physically. Not literally. Just... stop believing the garbage. Stop fighting for things that do not exist. Stop holding on to people who will leave. Stop clenching for a future that is not promised.

Then raise again. With the primal survivor mode. Where bullshit has no value. Where ideologies have no value. Where religion and politics and every mind game have no value. Just living becomes the priority. Just being. Just breathing. Just eating. Just sleeping. Just caring for the one in front of you.

Wiping real tears. Not virtual ones. Not performative ones. The tears of hunger. The tears of sorrow. The tears of misery. The tears of pain. Those are real. Those matter. Everything else is noise.

---

Where does me become secondary? When your mind is on a trip. Of ideologies. Of religion. Of politics. Of power play. Of all that garbage. That garbage has nothing to do with nature. Nothing. Nature does not vote. Nature does not pray. Nature does not draw borders. Nature does not kill for a flag.

Those things are rudiments. Primal instincts that got perverted. When survival was taken for granted. When food was ample. When water came to your room. When food was delivered at your doorstep. When distance in relationship was measured in milliseconds. We lost longing. We lost the pain of love. We took everything for granted.

So the primal instincts—the fight, the fury, the need to protect—had nowhere to go. They got perverted. We invented religion. We invented politics. We invented ideologies. We invented groups. We invented enemies. We needed something to fight. So we made things up.

We killed for protecting our kids. Like a lion. We fought for water. Like an elephant. But now we do not have those problems. The kids are in school. The water comes from a tap. But the fight is still there. The fury is still there. Looking for a vent. So we kill over boundaries we cannot see. Over lines drawn on paper by people who are dead. Over names we did not choose. Over flags that will outlast us and then be forgotten.

We fought wars over unseen boundaries of this earth. Boundaries we have no right upon. Or boundaries we have equal rights upon. Does not matter. We killed. We drew lines. We named the lines. Alexander came. Alexander conquered. Alexander dropped dead. Like a mosquito smashed by the reality of life. Which is death.

---

There are two ways to get transformed. Love. And death.

Both are the same. Both loosen the mind from its clenching. Both break the ties and knots. Both are like falling into an abyss. An unknown world. You are lost. You are nowhere. You are overwhelmed.

In the unknown waters of death and love, you see reality. The importance of the beloved. Not religion. Not politics. Not power. Just the beloved.

After death, you crave for a touch. A look. One that you never cared for when you had a body. You crave for food. The meal you always took for granted. You crave for a caring call. The one you never wanted when you were not giving up.

In death, you will give up. You will have no choice. The body will release. The mind will stop. The fist will unclench. The jaw will relax. The breath will leave. And you will not be there to notice any of it.

In love, you give up too. You give up the need to be right. The need to be in control. The need to protect yourself. You give up the walls. You give up the weapons. You stand there, naked, in front of another human, and you say I cannot do this alone. That is giving up. That is not weakness. That is the only strength that matters.

Your holding will not change life. Your holding will not change nature. The sun will rise whether you are clenched or not. The rain will fall whether you deserve it or not. The child will laugh. The old man will die. The trees will grow. The rivers will flow. None of it asks for your permission. None of it waits for your approval.

So give up. Not because you are defeated. Because you are tired. And tired is allowed. Not because you have lost. Because the fight was never yours to win. Not because you are weak. Because the fist was never the answer.

Give up. Let go. Drop dead. Not physically. Mentally. Let the old self die. The one that thought holding on was strength. The one that thought clenching was fighting. The one that thought anxiety was preparation.

Let that self die. Bury it. Mourn it. Then walk away.

When you come back, you will be different. Not perfect. Not enlightened. Just... looser. The shoulders will drop. The jaw will unclench. The breath will come easier. And you will see that the things you were fighting were never there. They were ghosts. They were stories. They were habits.

You will still have problems. You will still be hungry sometimes. You will still need money. You will still need to make calls and send emails and chase deals. But you will not be clenched while you do it. You will not hold your breath. You will not treat every silence as a verdict.

You will just... live. The way the dog lives. The way the cat lives. The way the lion lives. Not thinking about death. Not fighting about borders. Not killing for a flag. Just living. Just being. Just breathing in and breathing out and taking the next step because the next step is there.

Give up. See what happens. You might find that you are still breathing. That the body knows what to do. That the instincts are still there. That the DNA remembers.

You might find that giving up is not dying. It is waking up. To the only thing that has ever mattered. The breath. The meal. The touch. The call. The tear wiped from a face that is not yours.

That is not giving up. That is giving in. To life. To nature. To the way things actually are. Not the way you were told they should be.

Give up. Let go. Drop dead. Then live. For the first time. Really live. Not clenched. Not fighting. Not holding on to nothing.

Just breathing. Just being. Just here. Just now.