I'm no different from you.
I put a lot of pressure on myself.
I get scared about the future.
I think not-so-nice-things about myself, other people and the world.
This moment, my exhaustion is making me very gripe-y.
- I just cursed at the garbage truck for making garbage-truck noise.
- A single fly is flitting around my desk, and I almost can't bear it.
- My adult kid left a pan of burnt eggs in the sink (again) and I want to throw the pan and collapse in a puddle on the floor.
Woe is me!
These are the moments when we need a lifeline.
And Grace is it.
The fact is:
We can't act from choice when we are in a reactive state.
Growing up in a jewish household "Grace" was not common vernacular, and certainly not a dinner table practice.
It's a term I've had to adopt . . . and we are building a solid rapport.
The last weeks of summer can be all manor of chaotic and melancholic, wonderful and sweet for many of my readers.
It's true for me too.
It can also been enormously triggering.
Transitions are like that.
Life changes with the seasons and stirs up all kinds of friction.
Life also changes when our heart breaks from loss, from menopause and empty-nests, from illness and caregiving, when moving to a new home or going back to work.
In this community all of these transitions are happening.
Even the shadow of the past shows up in the current moment.
My husband died on September 8th almost nine years ago now.
And I know that is playing a part in my gripes today.
Our gripes hold feelings that want our care, not our stifling.
Grace shines a light our resistance so that we can gripe if we want to - to rage - to grieve - to feel sad and confused and afraid about what is really happening beneath the drama of pure reactivity.
Then, after all our griping, we can choose to shift - when we are ready.
Grace before gripe.
Can you bring some grace to your resistance today?
May you be gentle with yourself in this final week of August.
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