Yesterday, for no apparent reason, a 17-year-old injury became sharply painful. I am limping. My toe under the scar is swollen and tender. Bone fragments got dislodged.
Surprisingly, today I felt called to go for a walk. Not really understanding why, I hobble out into the neighborhood, a light rain sprinkling down, last light hovering in the sky. Each step slow and deliberate. Very aware. Very aware. Each step, I began asking, What Grace is this? Step. What Grace is this? Step. What Grace is this?
Wonder unfolds in my heart like a symphony. Each step a miracle. Heart cracking open with Gratitude.
What Grace is this? Tears. I’m alive. So alive. Hearts appear everywhere. Hearts painted on the sidewalk, in the leaves, as puddles. I trust. All is well and all is welcome here.
What Grace is this? There are energetic shifts happening in my body and in our collective. I’m not here to fix. I’m here to be. To love to cry to limp to breath to burn to ache to laugh to hug to fuck to scream to walk to be… to experience each moment viscerally. And then, as I’m limping in this neighborhood of hearts, I felt our world with no locks on doors. Open.
A vision. Brief and magnificent and expansive and pure.
Meanwhile, I limp, I breathe, I ask, I trust, What Grace is this?