Letting the Light of Grace In

When an old pattern or habit returns that you thought was gone for good

Photo by my friend Marcie Decker. Check out Marcie and Rob’s amazing National Parks posters.

The raven in the photo has a part to play in the story. Stay tuned.

I started experiencing weird symptoms a couple of months ago. Racing heart, exhaustion in the afternoon, wired after dinner, excessive worrying, slight headaches, and a hard time finding words which for a writer and writing coach is at, the very least, inconvenient.

Yep, you guessed it, too much cortisol — a result of choices I’d been making around over scheduling, hurrying too much + too much news.

I’m already doing much better thank you but here’s the interesting thing…

I didn’t think I would ever feel this way again. I have good life balance thank you very much. I’m in bed by 8:00 pm. (Like Marcie didn’t know that raven was going to photo-bomb her picture of Bridal Veil falls in Yosemite. See the tie in?)

Cue a different kind of it’s not too late - it’s not too late to be revisited by something you thought were done with.

Do you know this moment too — when a pattern or a habit or proclivity shows up and you’re like no! I’ve done the work! I have the receipts to prove it. It’s too late, you don’t get to come back.

It’s so understandable to be blind-sided. You have changed in so many ways. Big ways. So have I.

I wanted to raise my fists to myself and battle the truth of what was happening or turn my fists on myself. I’m in therapy dammit.

Yet here I was. Maybe you too. Whatever your pattern or habit du jour is.

Just an obvious reminder: the return of a thing you thought you were done with is not permanent and does not negate all the changes you have made. You’re human and we humans change in mysterious loopy ways.

Also when we are stressed, and who isn’t given the news of the world, we regress. Like my kids do when they come home. They go from high-functioning adults who do important jobs to inert couch potatoes who give monosyllabic answers to “What do you want for dinner?” and who seem to need a new water glass every hour. (Love you so much kids!)

Nobody wants to be revisited by their particular flavor of dysfunction yet there is such tenderness and self-love in admitting “I’m here again.” When we can greet our old stuff with love or at least “Hiya, I see you” that’s where the light of grace can creep in.

When we can put down our fists. When we can step out of the numbness of denial.

When we puff up and harden up or when we keep our suffering to ourselves, that’s when our shame and self-judgment build tall walls, and on top of needing to rally our resources to address whatever is happening, we ache with loneliness thinking no one else has ever been here.

How much grace can we offer ourselves when we find ourselves in that place again? That’s always the doorway back home.

Oh I’m here again. Okay, sweetheart, how about a hug?

Because it’s never too late for grace.

Now I write this from a writing retreat in Taos I lead every year. I took that picutre from the sweeter opener place. The grace place.

If you want to join one of my retreats next year, go here to get an invite. I’m also leading a retreat in the Poconos too. Natalie Serber will be teaching with me!

Love,

Jen

P.S. If this piece made you feel less alone, I’d love you to share it. Thank you.