Walking in Grace
I thought I knew. I thought I knew exactly what would unfold. I thought I knew exactly what would unfold for my brother, Ray, who was dying of pancreatic cancer. I was aware of boundaries that were set up by self to help me function within the material world: timing, knowing an overview of disease markers, observing mental and physical decline, and an understanding of general hospice expectations and protocol provided some confidence. Yet, as the plane pulled away from the tarmac, levels of anxiety settled in.
There had been FaceTime calls and texts with Ray; however, we hadn’t been in the same room together for eight years. How had time treated him? The backdrop was east central Texas, on a ranch, with ten acres of precious land punctuated by a glorious, old Burr Oak and spectacular sunrises.
As a death midwife, I knew the basics of dying, how to offer comfort through love and solidarity and—above all—how to stay out of fear. But what about Ray?
He was the first of five siblings to travel this path. He had been very candid about his disease, how his body was reacting, his preferences, and next steps. He was also seven years younger than I, and his circumstances didn’t follow the expected life order. I was happy that each of four sisters spent some quality time with him. I also wondered how my sister-in-law and adult nieces and nephews were coping. So many unknowns.
How would I attend to Ray’s unmapped journey into the light? I sensed a choice emerging: rely on the familiar boundaries of what I knew about death or use those boundaries to go beyond, experiencing the revelations of the moment. I am a bit risk-averse, so I was thrilled that my inner voice superseded my rational mind in favor of a boundary-free venture with the present moment.
Shortly after this decision, an insight came to me. I remembered the words of a good friend who offers workshops set in nature to heal grief and other traumas as well as to promote leadership and team building. When faced with unknowns, rather than deferring to the usual boundaries—or developing new ones—my friend suggests, “Walking in grace, I see what is needed here. My Higher Self shows me.” Her natural instincts lead to intuitive understanding, flexibility, inclusiveness, and right action.
For me, “Walking in grace, I see what is needed here” meant holding Ray’s hand; giving him foot rubs to relieve water retention; offering sips of liquid; rehashing common memories of our growing up years; sharing gratifying moments from our careers, confirming values that make things better for people, and watching him sleep.
Walking in grace means not carrying preconceived notions like bias, prejudice, stereotypes, or assumptions into daily interactions. Each day brings new challenges—opportunities to practice with each other—regardless of where we are in time.
Grace is a frequency that permeates everything it touches in the present moment. Some say well-defined parameters are more effective. Yet, in my experience, boundaries are products of the rational mind and our senses. Often fixed and inflexible, boundaries may lead to feelings of contraction, separateness, and exclusion.
Asking the heart-based question, “What is needed here?” creates an opportunity, originating from Self, for expansive possibilities, a way to become Source-like. With grace, there is nothing that needs to be protected. A natural give and take leads to authenticity.
The real work is internal and inclusive. It is choosing to go to our center to spend more quality time with Source, more frequently, and in greater depth. We are quiet, offer an expansive heart, and trust our connection. We stop striving and trying to figure out things. The practice of growing closer to Source and developing a unique relationship builds stability and a greater trust in ourselves.
Now we have a greater capacity to befriend and support others. The energy of our small, tight hearts and thinking minds has been put aside to be transmuted. We soar! Love and fear cannot occupy the same space simultaneously. We choose love: being present; evoking nature; engaging in deep listening; sharing through reading or music; crying with; standing in solidarity; believing even when we don’t understand; and assisting in small ways—are all meaningful responses. This is true Self. This is a sacred connection between my brother and me. This is walking in grace.
A thought…
How might “Walking in grace and asking what is needed” apply to you personally? What revelations and releases might you experience with your neighbors? Your town? Regionally? Nationally? Globally? How might this way of being change your world of uncertainty and frustration for the better, one interaction at a time?
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