Oh, the irony. All I can say is that to help me sit here and write about grace, I needed a jolt of…something. Or rather, a chunk of something.
Which led me to the kitchen and the irony of finding myself scarfing down ice cream cake straight from the pan, a shower of chocolate cookie crumb crust cascading down my face and shirt, all over the counter. My mouth contorting to accommodate a way too big chunk of mint chocolate chip. ‘Got grace? Well….
I hadn’t even been thinking consciously about grace until a few hours ago when a moment of, well, grace or synchronicity or similar, reminded me of how enchanting grace can be. I’d just noticed that someone had pushed back my bookshelf, only to reveal 3 errant angel cards: Grace, Inspiration, and Patience. Presto.
After days of dire headlines coupled with an avalanche of tension in my family’s life, I was engulfed in a pretty dark, numb soul swamp. I kept flailing about, wondering how to reignite any sense of light or comfort when I stumbled upon that magical card trio.
Which got me back to savoring the easeful, beautiful flavor of “elegance of form, manner, motion, act….” And, yes, “charm.” Ahhhhh.
Just saying the words and sensing the shimmering picture they paint start the soothing. For sure, experiencing the beauty, fineness and kindness of grace has long provided solace–and joy.
As a dancer, I’ve heard the word grace thrown around a million times. Like art, beauty and elegance, grace depends a lot on the viewer. What you find graceful or charming may be quite different from what your mom and your colleague do.
Many folks might immediately conjure up a picture of a graceful ballerina. OK, agreed. The seeming ease of movement can be important. But now when I think of favorite graceful movers and moments, I know I need to witness something big about spirit.
I envision dancers and athletes, and regular folk, who embody the luxurious aspect of elegance. They’re luxuriously themselves, and that reads in their movement and speech and lives.
For me, true grace comes down to a sort of generous integrity–of movement, line, design, behavior. Even of being. The most graceful person I know turns out to be my non-dancer (but natural athlete) husband, because it all comes together easily and elegantly in him–even when he’s wearing his ancient, sweaty workout clothes :).
Another thing I love about grace is its infectiousness. While I’ve been interrupted numerous times as I write this by an overwrought, overtired, sobbing child, I’ve been able to stay comparatively patient and calm because I’ve been focusing on grace. So much so, that as I cast around for some way to comfort him, I remember the ice cream cake and fudge sauce that he’d missed out on earlier. Well, alright. Let’s do it up. Just BYOS–bring your own spoon.