The word ‘grace’ means something different to everyone. I came up Catholic so we sang about it a lot, but I never thought much about what it actually meant.
Here’s a link to a free week of the library. BECAUSE YOU LOVE ME… Forward this to two or three people who might enjoy it. I hear from more of
Tibetan Buddhist Pema Chodron writes about following our path at the risk of our own lives.
She’s not talking about our actual mortality, here. She’s talking about a willingness to be deeply, radically honest with ourselves, even if that honesty threatens to alter our life plan or poke holes in what we thought was our rock-solid identity.
I cried at the Whole Foods fish counter the other day. As soon as the fishmonger asked me what I’d like I felt the sting… warm face flush, heat in the eyes, wobbly bottom lip. I recognized it immediately and laughed at the absurdity. So did he. We shared a nice little moment over some responsibly sourced tilapia.
Muff and I were driving to class yesterday and as he shuffled through my iTunes, Mr. Wendel came on. It’s an old Arrested Development song from the 90s about life from the perspective of a homeless person and what that perspective has to teach us. It got me thinking.
My entire adult life I’ve thought that if I could be smart enough, nothing would be able to hurt me. If I could collect enough information, find the logic, make sense, sort out, maybe even predict a little I could keep a safe distance between myself and pain. I probably became a teacher, at least in some part, for this reason.