Grace, my name is Grace
Here we go again.
Truth be told, my current deep breath capacity is shallow at best. The stuff of wading and tide-pools or the overambitious Smart Car-pool. Cut more Italian thin than Chicago deep-dish.
I’ve always loved that the medical term for a breath, the first component of the respiratory process, the inhale, is called “inspiration.” Literally to conceive, create, draw in vitality, generate prana…
To borrow verbiage from Amanda Palmer, tonight, and the entirety of this weekend, I’m creating A THING. And guys this THING requires a lot of me functioning at full capacity. Ideally with depth, breadth, and full velocity inspiration, and just for good measure probably some freshly-brushed teeth (you’re welcome boys!)
But right now? There’s this other thing. Interfering. Steeving my style. And I’m feeling pretty human. Humaning hard. A solitary human on her Heroine’s Journey. Cue: “The Ordeal.”
The “what” is not-so-really-all-that-very-important. Because, see, I’m committed to rapid healing and instantaneous miracles. So the specifics and particulars are inconsequential. You follow? All is well. But WOW, the human edge, that anxiety about not being able to do my THING and sitting in significant physical pain, falling momentarily into a tailspin of “what-how-but.but.but. — — I’m going to let *everyone* down!!” got so raw. So piercing. So entirely immersive. I can still taste it. Maybe you’ve been there?
Last night I pushed myself too far. I found too late, my physical edge. Patience meet Humility. Resilience, come to know thine boundary. Thou shalt listen to the signs! (If you hadn’t noticed, sometimes my Heroine’s Journey-speak leans on borderline-Biblical.)
The after-effect gave me pause. I felt nauseous. My world felt shaky. Cue: actual earthquake. What the what? God, art thou smiting me? I jest. But in truth, I had to laugh…later.
My body is currently taped up for structural support. “Breathe, breathe, breathe,” my internal incantation. This morning before I left my house I drew out a card from my calendar of daily affirmation. It read, “Today I let my prayers be answered. I am willing to let miracles happen in my life!”
This afternoon I began in earnest more prayers, offerings of devotion. To the Universe I have requested healing, wholeness, harmony. In nature, I called in light, strength, joy. And there have been others more. Leave no stone unturned. Singalongs to Sugar Ray, green juice elixirs and vitamin potions, paint-by-numbers in shower-steam condensation. To God I have requested ease, support, grace.
Ready for the day, I got in my car. Drove to the auto-repair shop. (At least something today in my life can be fixed up and mended!) The sweet, effusive receptionist at a shop called INTEGRITY gathered my car key, took my information, and as we parted I turned to thank her once more and inquired, “I’m sorry I forgot to ask, what was your name?”
She stood and smiled.
“Grace. My name is Grace.”
The hour is Now. It’s time for the THING. Simple breaths. One at a time. Miracles are nigh!
PS Dear tribe, you were always in my heart, my prayers, my dance steps, each heartbeat, and inspired breath. Thank you for being part of the inspiration behind my every inspiration. I am grateful for you.