Abandonment—an Ascension tool? Eh?

Surely abandonment is a negative thing. How can it be in this toolkit? Yes, it can be a negative thing. That’s our general understanding of it. It has been a hugely negative presence in my life; one I have struggled long and hard to rid myself of.

My family has a history of abandonment. My father’s mother died when he was 4 years old. My grandfather remarried—but then walked out, abandoning my father to his stepmother. My mother’s mother had an affair. My mother’s father went to court ands won custody of my mother—a very unusual turn of events for 1935. My grandmother was ejected from the family, leaving my mother feeling… you guessed it, abandoned.


Neither of my parents dealt with their abandonment. Thanks to the magic of epigenetic inheritance, their unresolved feelings of abandonment were passed on to me. This created a paradox for me during my adolescence. I could see that my parents were doing everything they could to give me a happy upbringing. Yet at the same time I felt abandoned. Naturally, I concluded the fault lay with me.

It took many years—and a trip on the Ascension rollercoaster—to unpick all of that inherited baggage and realise my feelings of abandonment weren’t my own.


Only once I got through all that was I able to realise that abandonment has a positive side too, a beneficial quality. Curiously, the Oxford Dictionary doesn’t really recognise this—yet it does hint at it—in its definition of abandonment:

Abandonment: The action or fact of abandoning or being abandoned.

The underlying word, abandon, has three meanings:

  1. Cease to support or look after
  2. Give up completely
  3. Allow oneself to indulge in (a desire or impulse)

All three of these meanings have a vaguely negative slant. That’s why the positive side of abandonment isn’t readily apparent—not even the dictionary recognises it. Yet ‘cease to support’ can be ceasing to support something unhealthy. ‘Give up completely’ can be giving up an addiction or some other kind of crutch. ‘Allow oneself to indulge in a desire’ can mean giving over to a higher purpose.

That’s why the positive side of abandonment isn’t readily apparent—not even the dictionary recognises it.

That’s how I stumbled onto the flip side, the positive side of abandonment.


I was working on a project related to my Ascension work—my higher purpose. And I was stuck. Really stuck. Then I watched a music video where the vocalist was totally immersed in singing—so hard she was literally shaking. With a shock I realised she had abandoned herself to the music. I did the same with my project and—bam!—things instantly came unstuck.

So abandonment is a tool to use when you’re stuck. Many of the tools in the Ascension toolkit have similar attributes to actual tools in our garage. I’m not sure abandonment has an equal. It’s an all-or-nothing tool, a tool to use when you’ve run out of finer, more precise, more manageable tools.


Abandonment is also a tool that takes you away from safety. No hard-hat and safety goggles here! Sometimes we are too concerned with outcomes. We try to stage-manage our emergence from the chrysalis of Ascension into our wonderful butterfly selves—when in reality we need to throw caution to the wind and just spread our Ascension wings, no matter what that looks like. Some abandonment might just be what you need.

Photo by Bruce Christianson on Unsplash