May 10th is brought to you by the letter C of grace! How fitting to use a Sesame Street reference, because childhood’s been on my mind. Perhaps because it was just Mother’s Day. Or maybe I’m recognizing a need for self-care through compassion and celebration. So onto the first C!
Was grace part of my childhood?
Looking back, I see grace in forms of compassion: my grandma loved to bake, and she always found ways to serve everyone. With a garden overgrown with zucchini, she made not one, but often four(!) separate loaves of bread, hiding the veg with “chip chocolates” for everyone and walnuts for some. I’d like to embody Grandma’s sense of grace: not questioning, only adjusting out of love.
My cousin was full of grace to me, too. Though she’s nearly a decade older than me, she treated me like an adult/younger sister. Whether she lived 20 minutes away or 2 hours, we picked up on routines, like reorganizing my room, using grid paper to accurately plot new bed, desk, and dresser placements. I learned grace looks like showing up.
Grace showed up in church, too: I was told God exemplified grace, through giving up His son for salvation. As I’ve grown older, that feels like a heavy burden. Though I am childless (intentionally), I can’t imagine that sacrifice… or shall I say guilt? Or shame? In Christianity, God-Jesus-Holy Spirit are God in 3 persons. I didn’t have such confusion as a child, so I am gracefully trying to acknowledge that I have questions. Maybe I should try to find a church again.
Grace showed up when I was an independent kid, so I am giving grace to my inner child:
- My childhood was filled with creativity: dance lessons marked nearly every Saturday from 3-18, and I’m thinking about going back to modern dance! As a child, I also played piano, colored with no abandon, and loved snapping pics on Kodak cameras. In my self-talk, I can remind myself that marketing allows expression!
- My childhood was full of competition, trying a new sport every year (basketball, volleyball, sand volleyball, tae kwon do, cheerleading, track, soccer) but now I’m recognizing how I can self-compete through cardio. I’ve finally found a routine, sometimes with 9-minute miles!
- My fave activity during childhood was camping and “living in the sunshine”, and I can cultivate new adventures throughout this beautiful state of mountains, lakes, and trees.
Recognizing what my inner child craves, I can see where my self-compassion’s been lacking.
My self-talk needs practice.
Trying to be present in this moment, my self-talk sees my past self, including my child and adolescent selves, rambunctious with activity yet with minimal control of where, when. My calendar wasn’t my own. The first time I ever quit anything, I was 13, piano. Then 17, a volunteering gig for Rangerettes (essentially Christian Girl Scouts). Then 21, a catering job when I already had 4(!) other jobs.
No wonder my work and worth get tangled. I want to do good work. But it can’t be ALL of me.
So what’s missing? Sometimes, people. Over Mother’s Day, I missed home. Though Colorado is a space of sunshine (what I craved so much as a child!), it feels so big sometimes. Maybe because I am single again, but it looked like everyone had someone to celebrate with on Sunday. And on today’s run at the pedestrian-only park, I was one of very few single runners.
Celebrating little wins is a way to practice grace.
It’s been a tough few days, but I am still trying to show up for myself. Communicating what I need at work. Going on today’s run, despite feeling groggy, because this run/salad is my new Tuesday Tradition. Or how about celebrating Mother’s Day by myself? I wrote my mom a letter, but ultimately, it was a party (er, rather, picnic) of one on Sunday.
How can I create small moments of celebration (grace!) every day?
Maybe if I start reading and writing before bed, instead of doom scrolling, I can find ways to celebrate. I can celebrate that not only am I reading again, there’s a multitude of books on my shelf, including Bird by Bird, all about creating a regular writing habit. I’m currently reading/writing about childhood (as practiced here!). That’s why today’s pic has a pair of shoes on a telephone wire: someone tossed them there, reminiscent of Holes, a captivating story from my childhood!
I can also acknowledge that grace takes practice, like sitting still and allowing the lingering, fleeting feelings. Or allowing some walking breaks on my runs.
I feel grace when I had the confidence to speak up, like last week when I subtly posted about Roe v. Wade on social. I can celebrate that no one(!) responded with trolling. Instead, there were tons of positive comments, reinforcing my need to write about choice further on my website. Circling back, I know Little Kaylie would be proud of Big Kaylie for keeping up this writing habit, so way to go!
I’m still working on self-compassion. But I am learning small steps like not breaking the chain on routines and my self-conversations, help me see, appreciate, and cultivate grace. How can you offer yourself grace?