I slide into my sneakers, and leave the phone, headphones, keys in my room. I run, aiming for 3 miles, not for time, but for distance without technology. Without a soft vibration, notifying me it’s so-and-so’s birthday, or another email received, or a typical Monday to-do.
I know it’s dangerous leaving without a phone on my person. But just the thought of where these 3 miles will lead me is enough assurance, of safety, of belonging, of purpose. Because when I get there, I feel it all: this precise distance leads me to a waterfall, where I dangle my feet on its slope. The sprinkling of cascading water dances on my toes.
This ledge marks the spot where I meditate. What used to be a “do not enter: park under construction” is now my safe space. It’s only been open for a couple months, so I sit alone, pondering all what Colorado has given me. This is what grace looks like today. Just. Be. Still.
By disconnecting from technology for a moment, I begin connecting to myself.
Colorado’s given me a home, with roommates who share affinities for gardening, film references throughout the 20th and 21st century, and plant-based lifestyles. Colorado’s given me a job where I can truly serve, where marketing is new and exciting (and therefore different!). Colorado has given me grace.
Grace is showing up in your space, for yourself and others.
I needed that space to sit today before leg 2 of my run. Over this extended weekend, grace also felt like celebration and companionship. I’ve been social, exploring art festivals (plural), savoring sushi and ice cream with Magdalena, and feasting on Memorial Weekend bbq with Colby and his roommates.
I am so grateful to have people in Colorado.
Yesterday marked my first time having friends from out-of-state visit my home, and that took grace and guts. I still have so much to learn about this big state, but sharing the space with Brooke and her sister Courtney showed me that I’ve learned much about what I love about Colorado. There is a huge sprawl here, but it’s a space to learn, find art, eat, grow, and be present.
“Cheersing” Brooke for her birthday, we sipped champagne, spotted buffalo (pictured, grateful to have friends who are okay with an early rise!), and people watched, both in Boulder and on Broadway. How I’ve missed watching folks come together at concerts! Where else can you find a balding yet ponytailed 70-year-old groupie/photographer dancing right next to a 2-year-old, headphones bigger than his head?
Sometimes, grace is just showing up. Taking it all in. Carpe-ing that diem.
It wasn’t a perfect weekend. But I am working on simply showing up to live in this moment, in this space. I know I slipped into nostalgia, work talk, and observation, instead of allowing space for quiet contemplation. That’s why today’s run was so powerful. I’ll keep chasing those moments where all I can do is lookout into the waterfall and BE, experiencing and enjoying the sitting, the silence, the stillness, the splashes.
I’m grateful to have spaces for celebrations and companions in my life again, especially as the pandemic isolated everyone. Digging deeper, both a birthday celebration AND a moment of quiet contemplation are wins. Truly connecting to others AND myself make life fuller. Grace is a gift, given and received over and over again. Over to you: where (or who) is grace coming from?