Tag Archives: grace

Let Me Be Gracious

I must buy more T-shirts that give people pause. It’s good for them, I think, and I know it’s good for me. It shakes us up.

This morning, I wore my “Nasty Women Project” shirt, more for a color coordinated look than as a statement. I always enjoy wearing it but as often happens, I forget I am until someone notices.

This morning, it was the pharmacy tech who reminded me. She regularly waits on me and usually calls me by name but not this morning. She just kept staring at my shirt.

“Name?”

“Huber.”

She paused before asking, “Karen?” Her tone was one of disbelief.

I could not help but smile but it was just a small one. “Yes,” was my answer. Admittedly, my tone was a bit sing-song.

The tech may not have been crestfallen but she was puzzled. How dare I not be the ailing old woman that she was so sure I was.

To be fair, she has seen me on some pretty rough days but the only conversation we ever had was my giving her the information required to purchase my prescription.

I presented as a new person to her. Maybe I will replace the one she was so sure she knew. Who knows, maybe someday she will surprise me, too.

Let me be gracious when she does.

Aim for Even posts offer equanimity a dose at a time. No day or dose is ever the same, even if the aim is. You may read about the origins of Aim for Even here or on this site’s About page.

At Some Point, It’s a Leap

As I finished my morning yoga practice, I paused to look out my front room window.  A squirrel was jumping from limb to limb.

A wish from long ago dropped in: Oh, if all I had to do was leap from limb to limb….

It seemed so carefree, and I longed to escape. The world was so hard.

Everywhere I looked it seemed that everyone’s life was easier than mine, not simpler, surely, but easier. They seemed to know when to leap.

Just the very thought of risk frightened me so much I didn’t recognize that a leap from limb to limb is risk disguised as grace.

The only care the squirrel has is survival, like every life form on the planet.

Some of us just accept that better or seemingly so. 😉

We are not all brave all the time, and I suspect squirrels are also reluctant. After all, the leap to the next limb may bring the unexpected. At the very least it brings a bit of the unknown.

In these years, I know there is no staying on one limb too long.

Aim for Even posts offer equanimity a dose at a time. No day or dose is ever the same, even if the aim is. You may read about the origins of Aim for Even here or on this site’s About page.

Each Has Its Run of Days

I’m finding my way through another chronic illness fog. It is one of substance, a “pea souper,” thick with the unexpected.

I happen suddenly upon health hazards no matter how cautiously I proceed. Often, there is not even a murky outline of warning.

My own words surprise me, blurts here and there. Often, I create a new word entirely.

I don’t finish my own sentence–be it on a screen or in conversation–I lose its purpose. Quickly, I start two or three others that never find the finish line, either.

I’ve always had this problem—starting more than one sentence at a time— but in the fog of chronic illness, the results often startle even me. 😉

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Thoughts drop in here and there—stripped and shredded–unable to attach for long, if at all. From the Zen Buddhist perspective, that’s a good thing.

Still, I snatch phrases and string lines together for a brief moment of form, misty at best. Why expend energy to write a blog post? Some days I don’t. When I do post, there is a glimpse of perspective, albeit shrouded in fog.

I find  comfort in immersing myself in what I cannot know or even touch. It is a lesson in impermanence, trusting that neither fog nor sunshine stays.

Each has its run of days.

Aim for Even posts offer equanimity a dose at a time. No day or dose is ever the same, even if the aim is. You may read about the origins of Aim for Even here or on this site’s About page.

The Taste of Pure Water

Out of one experience another emerges, ephemeral but never-ending. These are the days of our lives. Try as we may, we cannot hold them yet we must stand in each if we are to receive what each day offers, a sip of grace. water-drops

It is a daily dose, “the taste of pure water; you can only discover it by abandoning all flavorings” (Nisargadatta Maharaj).

The new day is sweet if we willing let go of the previous day but bitter if the yesterday is one we would savor longer.

Grace fills the day as does the sun and recedes when sun and day are done. In the in-between, the experience empties in preparation for grace we are yet to sip.

We stand at the shore of day to drink in the experience of being alive, to taste its pure water.

Come to know the power and authority of your graces

 with the same precision with which you have

come to know your brokenness and pain.

Carolyn Myss

Aim for Even posts offer equanimity in daily doses. No day or dose is ever the same, even if the aim is. You may read about the origins of Aim for Even here or on this site’s About page.

Messy Monday and That’s Okay

Relinquishing the delusional hope that we can or must be flawless—

allows us to seek happiness in the only place it can be found:

our real, messy, imperfect experience.

Martha Beck

It is Monday, already messy. I am not consciously aware of believing in flawless living but I am not without my delusions.

It is fair to say that on most days I start out feeling flawless until my experience proves otherwise. It is rather like “building castles in the air” only to recognize that not all, sometimes none, are worthy of a foundation.

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Building castles is its own merit, part of the messy and imperfect experience of being alive. It is delusional to believe that the experience is anything but impermanent.   

We have woven a reality based on our projections, imagination,

hopes, fears, and delusions. Our cocoons have

 become very solid and sophisticated.

Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche 

Cocoon or castle, neither is forever. The cocoon will never know life as a butterfly but a butterfly will never know life unless there is a cocoon.

We are, which is not who we will be or who we were.

We are not flawless in our living nor are we meant to be. If we were, how paltry our experience.

Just stop and be still, effortlessly still. Grace will do the rest.

Adyashanti

 
Aim for Even posts offer equanimity in daily doses. No day or dose is ever the same, even if the aim is. You may read about the origins of Aim for Even
here or on this site’s About page. 

 

 

In Search of Grace

Today, I visited with an orthopedic doctor regarding the osteoarthritis in my hips. It seems I no longer have hip joints.

“They are gone,” he said.

How is that possible? Mainly, it is not impossible—this mystery of grace. In baring ourselves to the reality we have, we find resiliency.

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As Anne Lamott said, the mystery of grace “meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.” Impossible is never immune to transformation.

It’s mere mystery, unknowable, and it doesn’t matter that it is. Grace moves us to deeds we once thought impossible. The non-essential falls away to the ever essential, the life experience.

To open oneself to the mystery of grace is to discover and re-discover being. We are given only one body, which adapts as it must to one life change after another.

It is the heart that must make the mind bold to life anew, and somehow, it always does. As we are revealed so are we seen. Grace unlocks us.

Aim for Even posts offer equanimity in daily doses. No day or dose is ever the same, even if the aim is.  You may read about the origins of Aim for Even here or on this site’s About page. 

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