Child of Grace

A few weeks ago, I was reading an e-book by Pam Grout, author of E² and the sequel E³, both of which I enjoyed, about the importance of exploring and using our creative aspects. The book, Create or Die, suggests really cool exercises for flexing your creative muscles.

One of her suggested exercises was to create a title for your autobiography. The exercise didn’t require you write the autobiography, unless you wanted to, only to come up with what you would consider a clever and appropriate way to describe to your life. I came up with a few, but none really wowed me or seemed to fully capture the essence of who I believe myself to be or how I would describe my life, if I were going to craft my autobiography.

Today, while out and about enjoying the beautiful spring day, I decided to reach out to one of my former neighbors just to say "hello" and let her know I was thinking of her. I had intended to stop by for a visit since I was near my old neighborhood, but when she didn’t answer her phone I returned to my mom’s house.

Early this evening, she returned my call and expressed disappointment that she didn’t answer when I called earlier as she would have loved for me to have stopped by. Anyway, we had lovely chat, catching up on how things had been going since we last talked. She’s a feisty young woman of about 85 and I really do miss the regular chats we’d have when I lived just downstairs from her. I asked about her son, whom I knew had been diagnosed with throat cancer and was undergoing treatment. Turns out, he’s doing well and his treatments are over. Hooray!! He was still experiencing some pain she said, but I assured her that would go away in time, having went through something similar about 6 years ago when I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. The subject moved to my dad and how his death caught me and my siblings by surprise and we're still coming to terms with it, yet how we were happy to have recently celebrated another birthday with my mom, although she can be a challenge to care for. “You guys are doing the best you can. That’s all you can do,” my neighbor offered. “I’m sure both your parents appreciate it.”

She also shared that she and my other former neighbors really miss me being around. I appreciated hearing that—it actually felt good to hear that—as I have been feeling a bit isolated and forgotten, since moving back into my parents’ home, even before that really. I don't care how many self-help books tout the value of not needing to hear others expressing good thoughts about you to feel good—it feels really great when others do express their appreciation of your presence. It’s also funny how sometimes when you reach out to someone just to say “hello” or encourage them, they end up encouraging you. I suppose it’s true, you get what you give.

Being a “student,” so to speak, of Neville Goddard, I know that my outer world is merely a reflection of my inner state and, admittedly, I have inwardly been feeling a bit unsocial like I just wanted to be left alone or needed to hide from the world. My frightened inner child who just wants to feel safe, can occasionally, if I let her, wreak havoc with my life. I’ve been feeling like I’m broken, damaged somehow, and just not really wanting anyone to see me until I can fix whatever it is that’s broken. Last night, I made a decision to change that—no more hiding for me. I am not broken; I am fearfully and wonderfully made. As for my frightened inner child, I took her hand and told her she is safe and accepted.

And today, my outer world began to reflect that, as I smiled at strangers (some of them! Let’s be real, some strangers should not be smiled at.) and they smiled back at me. As an added bonus, thanks to my neighbor, I now have the perfect title for my autobiography: Child of Grace. 

It was how she referred to me as she was saying good-bye, and as soon as I heard it, I knew: “That’s it! That's my life!”

It’s how my mother, before she became ill, would sometimes refer to me. She even bought me a key chain eons ago with my name that reads: "Her name is noble and full of grace." Grace speaks to how I’ve always tried to carry myself, with poise and elegance, even in the midst of crappy experiences. And if I am honest, with myself at least, I would have to admit that despite all the seemingly crappy experiences I’ve had over the past several months, or though out my life time for that matter, my life has been filled with many remarkable moments of grace—goodness that I never anticipated and couldn’t possibly have earned, including a loving family, wonderful friends and wonderful neighbors.

My mother gave this to me eons ago. It's been through a lot as have I.

Embarking on a Journey to Explore My True Nature

It has been nearly three months since my dad passed away, and I really do miss him very much. Still, I cling doggedly to my faith and belief in miracles, including supernatural healing, despite what appears to have been an unanswered prayer regarding my dad’s return to health.

I continue to perfect my faith. I continue to grow, to study, and to learn. I have learned that there can be no room for doubt or unbelief when awaiting the manifestation of your desired outcomes—those things about which you have prayed. Doubt and unbelief are like weeds—they will choke the life out of the thing you are believing for before it even has a chance to bud. Remaining steadfast and unmovable, even in the face of failure, is not an option, it is a must.

And I believe the failure to be my own—not dealing with the weeds. I refuse to give myself an out and fall back on worn, faithless, so-called spiritual clichés like "God knows best." or "It was just his time." I allowed weeds to spring up and grow uncontrolled in my mind. I let my physical eyes and ears tell me what was possible, rather than relying on my spiritual eyes and ears. My faith is not yet perfected.

Perhaps, it will never be while I am in this physical body; however, I will continue expanding and continue exploring who I am and what is truly possible for me to accomplish, to have, and to experience. I am certain there is so much more that we are capable of being and experiencing than we allow ourselves because we limit our abilities to that which our physical bodies can do, or we think they can do. But we are not simply our bodies. We are the life force that animates these bodies. We are infinite beings connected to an Infinite Power that created a vast, endless universe, of which we see only a tiny fraction. As Shakespeare wrote in Hamlet: "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

I am excited about this journey to explore the true essence/nature of me and discover what I’m really capable of creating and experiencing. I believe this is the sole purpose of life.