Easy Does It

My preoccupation with grace continues. I think about it all the time, wherever I go, whatever I do and with whomever I may be. I try to perform all my actions gracefully, and not just activities that require graceful movement for optimum effectiveness, such as yoga, dancing, or walking. I make a point of doing even nothing gracefully. My body likes it. I tend to do less damage to myself when I just sit or stand with as much ease and grace as possible. So I figure grace must be good for me.
The biggest challenge in practising a life of grace has been in my relationships. I try to relate to everyone - family, friends, colleagues and strangers as graciously as I can. Most of the time this isn't an issue for me. If things are going well and people are being polite and respectful, I don't have to stop and think about my reactions to every little thing that transpires. I just go with the flow. And going with the flow tends to be graceful. You know - no struggling or resisting - just free and easy movement.
However, ever since I instituted this new grace-wherever-I-can policy, I've noticed a distinct increase in my vulnerability to slights and hurts from less-than-gracious people. I've admitted before in this forum that I'm a bit of a drama queen, and although I've curtailed my penchant for real-life drama considerably over the years, I still tend to "put myself out there" when it comes to expressing myself, especially when I'm in a good mood. I could be discussing something as banal as the weather, but if I'm feeling good and want to express an opinion on it, I might momentarily "act it out." Nothing over the top or anything, just a bit of slightly eccentric, idiosyncratic behaviour. Sometimes I like being silly. It's harmless fun that amuses me, and usually amuses other people, too. But that's just the sort of thing that has always caused me trouble with people who misinterpret and mistrust my behaviour, even though they may be amused by it. They may laugh, but not necessarily with me.
The easiest way for me to practice graceful living is to strip away extraneous words and actions. Keep it simple. Do everything with as much ease as possible. My new habits have caused me to talk less and listen more. Nothing wrong with that. But there are still occasions when someone has said something that is as thoughtless as it is unnecessary. That's when my recently adopted practice is really put to the test. So I stop, breathe deeply, and ask myself what is the most gracious way to respond to this situation? By taking the time to decide how I'll respond, I've already done the graceful thing. Once the moment has passed I feel slightly taller, and a whole lot wiser. And to think it requires so little effort. Sometimes less really is more.
Now that there's less of me - less show and tell, less in-your-face, less crap to dig through to grasp my meaning - I'm a lot more vulnerable than I used to be. But vulnerability can be a powerful defense. Only the rudest, most angry and unhappy people feel empowered by attacking the ostensibly weak and defenseless. A true warrior gets no satisfaction from an unworthy opponent who doesn't offer any real threat or challenge. (I'm finally beginning to appreciate the warrior poses in yoga. It's about being a spiritual warrior; fighting the good fight and taking aim against my inner demons.) Being vulnerable doesn't necessarily mean leaving yourself open to attack. It's about revealing your true self, which is understandably something we're not always willing to do. The psychologist and author David Richo says that our deepest wounds can be openings to the best and most beautiful part of ourselves.
My good friend Calvin, who is one of the most gracious people I know, once said to me "It doesn't matter what happens, my dear, just as long as you look good." Taken out of context, those words seem shallow and superficial, but I know exactly what Calvin meant. We can't always control what happens to us. The only thing we can control is how we react. We choose our response.
It's taken me a lot of mistakes and bad choices to realize that when misfortune or hardship strikes, I still have the option of behaving with grace and dignity. Okay, I admit that I've never experienced the worst indignities that extreme cruelty and oppression can create. Extreme circumstances often call for extreme measures. Yet Mahatma Gandhi chose extreme actions time and again - hunger strikes, passive resistance to violence - and still maintained his integrity, as well as the dignity of an entire nation.
I'm finally learning how to use a former weakness as a strength. It requires absolutely no compromise on my part. In fact, it's made me more honest and open. Sure, it can be scary, and leave me even more exposed to ridicule, but I've stopped making things worse by reacting badly. Even if I end up with egg on my face, I remove it as gracefully as possible.
- G. P.

Good Gracious Me

My new year's resolution is to say grace before every meal. By that I don't mean bowing my head and muttering the words aloud before I eat. If I'm in public and it would be inappropriate to draw attention to myself in the aforementioned manner, I'll simply sit still for a few moments and say grace to myself. That's what I've been doing for almost a year now, whenever I remember, which is about twice a week or so. Now that I've made it my new year's resolution, maybe I'll remember to do it every time.
I've mentioned before that I try to say grace before meals, but it was meant as a means to slow down my voracious eating habits - too much too fast and all that.
When I stop to give thanks for a meal, it does, indeed, slow me down. But now I'm upping the ante. I'm hoping that by saying grace, I'll be invoking it; allowing it to enter my life. All this because I've recently become obsessed with grace - the state of grace, living in grace, to be in good graces, or to be grace itself.
I'm not really sure what's caused this recent preoccupation of mine, but I know grace is a good thing to have and I want my share of it. However, I also know that it's a gift, usually associated with something that's divinely bestowed. People who are considered to be full of grace are worthy of it, because it's a quality that is invariably accompanied by, or synonymous to, kindness, generosity, goodwill and mercy. A genuinely kind and generous person is usually someone others like to hang around. One feels graced by their very presence.
Okay. I know. It's completely unreasonable to hope for the gift of grace without the concomitant virtues. Although I try to be courteous and thoughtful as much as possible, I also frequently slip up. I'm only human. But there are a couple of things I can do - things over which I have complete control, and don't need the disposition of a saint to master. One of them is saying grace before every meal. As long as I offer sincere gratitude for being able to share in Pachamama's bounty, it stands to reason that I will be inviting at least some grace into my life. At least that's my hope.
Another thing I do, and have done for many years, is walk as gracefully as I can. I've written frequently about my love of walking. I walk a lot, and I do it mindfully. I figure since I'm walking anyway, I might as well do it as beautifully as I can. For years now, whenever I walk, I pay attention to my stride, my posture, and my breathing. This deliberate, conscious way of walking has become second nature to me. It's an easy, accessible form of exercise and meditation. I like to think that when I walk with as much grace and ease as I can muster, then surely I endow myself with some sort of spiritual gift, because it's not just a physical experience. Whenever I engage in a conscious, contemplative stroll through the woods, my spirits are lifted, and I feel truly graced with the gifts of good health and peace of mind.
So maybe one day I'll live in a state of grace. But as it stands now, that's highly unlikely, because grace also denotes humility. Hoping to be rewarded with grace just for appreciating good eating and walking - something I should be doing anyway - is not what a genuinely humble, grateful person does. Mind you, that's still not going to stop me from saying grace, or walking with as much grace as possible, and secretly feeling oh-so-proud of myself when I do.
- G.P.