Tonight I am sorting through all my reminders to be grateful: air conditioning; ice tea; time to dawdle and journal and wonder about life; stars — especially the big dipper which hangs directly over my house each night — offering the promise of wisdom and openings that have yet to be revealed.

The Path of the Empath

The past couple of days felt a bit like being put through a grinder, both emotionally and spiritually. There are times I wish I wasn’t so empathic. Every bit of news, every violence, every sadness seems to threaten to sink me. Heck, I am still sad about a relationship that ended four years ago. But the more I resist feeling that, the more it bubbles up and settles me into a heap on the floor.

So, as they say, resistance is futile.  That sensitivity comes bearing gifts as well.

A Lucky Girl

What else?  What else fills my life and let’s me know that I am lucky indeed? Doglet and cats, sleeping in a circle around me as I write.  Coffee.  Pistachio gelato.  My mother whose grace and love and beauty astonish me.  My friend, Lisa, who I met twenty-five years ago this summer.  In the intervening years, we have kicked each other in the ass from time to time, but mostly we have been sounding boards for our process through this spiritual life.  In the meantime, we manifested so many of our long cherished dreams.  She’s a painter now.  I’m a writer and teacher.  When we met, I was a waitress and she was a hairdresser.

Trusting the Grace of Our Own Process

I guess what I am getting at, or digging around in search of tonight, is the reminder that we cannot know why things happen when they do and what the purpose of the knock on the door, the ending, the leaving is really about. Sometimes it isn’t clear for a really long time.

But remembering grace is always with us sure makes the darkness easier to bear.

© 2011  Shavawn M. Berry  All rights reserved

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