A Little Grace
For ourselves and others when we’re just doing our best
Did I say the wrong thing, did I make a mistake? Living in fear, afraid to be imperfect. I’m just human. I feel off sometimes — I wonder what’s the point. My mood is less than sunny, gray like the sky. I want to crawl into a hole and hide. What does that make me; can I drift away and take a day to do nothing, pretending life’s on pause.
Do I feel ashamed to be imperfect, wrong for being human, anxious you won’t love the imperfect parts of me? Of course. Because I’m human.
When the imperfect parts of me show their face my insides twist; should I take it back, apologize for my shortcomings. I could never live up to my own ideals. Who could?
Or am I sinking toward the truth with every mistake made, misstep taken. I slip until I’m finally free, floating, painless, because you see the real me.
It’s a sickening feeling; one wrong word can make me fall so low. I can’t rip my thoughts away from what I may have done better. Can’t we show a little grace, some compassion for others and ourselves most of all in a universe of infinite meaning where we’re all doing our best just trying to make it another day with the weight of the world on our shoulders.
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