Grace

Today, on the longest day of the year, I'm thinking about grace.

The world is a lot right now (perhaps it always is, in some regard).

The holidays are coming and they can be a complicated time. And then there's that weird limbo between Christmas and the new year. Another year starting - reflecting on the year that was, holding so much hope for the year to come.

For me, and many where I live, reeling in the aftermath of a cyclone that lulled us into a false sense of security before turning biblical and raining solidly for six days and six nights and swelling into an epic flood. I am safe and dry and my home is also, but many are not. Natural disasters (any big event) can be exhausting even when they're not happening to us personally.

And so here I am, thinking about grace.

And about what it means to give ourselves grace.

What does grace mean to you?

To me it means treading softly.

It means holding expectations lightly, for myself and for others.

It means holding myself lightly.

It means taking one slow breath in, and letting it out slower.

It means knowing it's okay if the day ends and tasks are left undone.

It means staring into space for a while because my body and mind and nervous system need a moment to pause.

It means trying to see everything through the light of kindness.

It means acknowledging that we're human, and we're doing the best we can.

It means trying not to run too far from what I'm feeling.

It means going gently, with grace.

My wish for you on this southern hemisphere longest day, wherever you are and whatever you're living - joy, grief, anywhere on the spectrum of human experience - is to go with grace.