It’s June 10th, and therefore the beginning of the end of applying each letter of grace to different themes of my life. I have some ideas for post-June grace writings, as grace is my word for 2022, but it still feels like the (almost) end.
Is there grace in endings?
Endings remind me things are finite, and that’s never felt more real. One of my people passed this week. I like to think that the meaning of life is, in fact, death. But instead I feel an emptiness, a pit in my stomach that cannot fill.
I know it’s pain talking, taking the form of this ache on my side. Right now, I feel guilty (of not being physically there for my fam), confused (how could she be gone?), and angry (why now?).
A Christian, there is GRACE for her: this mortal life is an ending for our physical relationship (again, how?!). God’s promise of eternal life feels hopeful. But it’s still hard to accept.
And whenever this inevitability – endings – happens, my priorities always seem to shift, either preemptively or consequently. For example, my stomach’s had this pain for about a month, and though the cause(s) is (are) now known, I’ve chosen to give up old habits, like drinking. I don’t mind having a beer or some gin occasionally, but lately I’ve completely opted out.
Life can feel like an empty vessel. Where is grace in that?
Work can fill the vessel (it has for me, too many times). Vices. Over-exercising. Doom scrolling. Routines. Volunteering to feel/do good for a moment. I’ve practiced all of it.
Instead, I am trying to practice grace by slowing down. I don’t need to fill my days, my resume with yet another gig, my Instagram feed, or even this website. I chose to not write about writing, the last 2 Wednesdays.
In fact, I took yesterday off. I spoke with friends and family, wrote many memories, and ate pancakes. Lingering at the library, I sat. Wrote. And cried.
How can I regain grace in this vast, often lonely, space?
Grace IS energy.
I know I usually have more energy than the average person, even as an introvert. Because I believe life IS energy, both given and received, taken and used, I am choosing to give energy to less activities now.
I am finding exercises that fill me with good energy: dancing! Reading! Praying?! Volunteering when it feels right (like tomorrow, at a Calexico concert)!
However, I’m not going to pretend to be someone I’m not: my energy is decidedly different, lately. I’m not sure if it’s because of my current sorrow or if I’m simply more self-aware.
I am praying for zeal once more, because I quite like that side of me.
Today, for example, I stumbled upon ‘Dork Dancing’ at a park, followed by reading, a poke bowl at a new-to-me food hall, and a golden hour stroll down a classic Colorado street (pictured). A beautiful evening, nearly all by myself.
It wasn’t perfect, there were far too many cat-callers. But it felt right, the sun waning next to its ol’ pal moon, the parking was free, and donuts wafted in the distance.
And so that’s what I need to give myself: space, time, and grace to see more than the polarities of endings and beginnings, emptiness and fullness. It takes energy (grace) to appreciate the in-betweens, too.
How are you giving energy?