Grace

There are a few good moments in life. Most of them often take me by surprise such as the husband casually narrating how he found some secret nature spot unbeknownst to most people but popular to those who seek the simplicity of silence and privacy. And him taking me there not telling me there was a short steep hike of which I was relatively unprepared for before reaching the said beauty.  Or a discovery of genuine connection with a stranger now a friend, finding common ground despite the disparity of life experiences, upbringing, places of origin, profession and so many other elements. And realizing how these do not matter. Understanding that what matters more is at that point in time, the presence of reciprocity was apparent. Authentic, significant reciprocity. One I have been seeking for the last 18 years.

I read somewhere how a woman over forty is said to be formidable mainly because the last of her superficial concerns fly out the window. Of course, the actual wording is more colorful than how I so carefully paraphrased in here. I just turned 41. My 40th year was a combo of chaos, revelation, discovery and transformation.  But that is a whole other story. Suffice it to say that, yes, I may have already begun entering this wonderful, wonderful realm of my used-to-be so important cares swiftly flying out the window a. k. a. the opinions of others that pressure me to fit in so they can achieve their own agenda. Suffice it to say that the last of my fucks regarding this have flown out the window.  There, I said it. Life is precarious. Life is too precious to be spent on writing a senseless chapter in the narrative of my life.

So what's left? One might ask. What's left is what matters. What is important. What, after all is what I needed. The simplicity of discovery filled with intention. The privacy of places devoid of artificial noise. And the candor and healing force of truth-filled connections. Along with what's left is gratitude. Gratitude for the chaos that revealed who I am not, what I do not want or need. I looked up the synonym of the word formidability. One of the near synonyms is grace. Ah, grace.  Each day as I consciously make the decision to walk the path of grace, allowing the last of my fucks to finally fly out the window, what's left now is the power of each moment filled with rapt attention and full, enriching presence. What's left are those few good moments that take me by surprise. And when these happen, all that is left to do is to give thanks and surrender.

Thank You

BY ROSS GAY

If you find yourself half naked

and barefoot in the frosty grass, hearing,

again, the earth's great, sonorous moan that says

you are the air of the now and gone, that says

all you love will turn to dust,

and will meet you there, do not

raise your fist. Do not raise

your small voice against it. And do not

take cover. Instead, curl your toes

into the grass, watch the cloud

ascending from your lips. Walk

through the garden's dormant splendor.

Say only, thank you.

Thank you.