Every day can be a page turner if we so choose. Some days we put the book down and leave it untouched for weeks; then curiosity takes hold and we find ourselves picking the story back up again and become engrossed in the plot - wondering where it will take us, how it will end, or whether it simply leads us into the next story.
And so it is with life: a never ending journey of discovery. In the quiet moments - those rare pauses where we step away from the story and simply breathe - we offer ourselves grace. Grace to catch up with what has been, and to prepare for what comes next.
What is Grace, Really?
Grace is funny thing to define. It's not something you can rate out of ten like joy or excitement. It's quieter. A quality more than a feeling. A state of being we often don't recognise until we look inward or back over the path we've travelled.
A dear friend of mine, one I shared my early life with - and who tragically passed away at just 24 - once wrote on my 21st key: "Walk through life with grace." His wise words have followed me through every season of my life. At the time, I was a young mother of two, trapped in a painful relationship full of coercive control, gaslighting, psychological manipulation, isolation, intimidation, and physical violence. Grace felt like another planet. Survival was all I knew. So how does one walk with grace when simply staying alive requires every ounce of strength?
Grace in the Midst of Chaos
Even after - by the grace of God - I was freed from that relationship, years of stalking followed. My nervous system lived in fight or flight for more than a decade. Again, I wondered how grace could coexist with fear, hyper-vigilance, and trauma.
During those years, I often felt like the opposite of grace. Alcohol became my crutch for an overloaded, exhausted nervous system - and, as alcohol so often does, it made everything worse. I behaved in ways I'm not proud of, waking up many mornings with shame and hopelessness. How could I walk with grace when my actions felt so disgraceful?
Learning to Observe Instead of React
As time moved on I slowed came out of survival mode. Through years of talk therapy and the courage to sit with uncomfortable truths, I began to shift from reacting to observing. And as I stepped into that space, I began to notice grace - quietly, gently - standing beside and within me. The very grace my friend had wished for me.
Returning Home: Healing in my Father's Garden
This past year, I've spent more with my father and his wife in the home I grew up in. I took it upon myself to mow the lawns each week, reconnecting with the landscape of my childhood. For most of my adult life, returning home felt confronting. I carried so many questions: "Why am I this way? Why did I make those choices? What shaped the belief I held about myself and the world around me?"
So, gently and cautiously, I began facing old memories - re-seeing them through the lens of forgiveness and grace for the child within, and for those around me. The year went through its metamorphous, and so to did my deep wounds and feelings from the past. As the seasons changed around me - flourish, decay, hibernation, emergence - I also moved through each phase of those same seasons in my life.
The heavier memories began to loosen their grip. Trauma dissolved into something softer. Anger gave way to compassion. Shame began to fade. And in its place, joy returned - memories of a brave, imaginative child who jumped off the garden shed roof with an umbrella like Mary Poppins, built teepees in the backyard, created pretend paddocks for imaginary horses, and played endlessly with siblings and friends, in wind, rain, and sunshine.
Discovering Grace Was There All Along
It was there, in my father's garden - the garden of my childhood - that I truly began to heal. I found grace again. Or perhaps, I finally noticed the grace that had been with me all along.
Lifting me through fear.
Holding me through sadness and confusion.
Shielding and protecting me in danger.
Guiding me back to myself and giving me strength to stay the course.
Now, entering this new phase of life - my Madhya, the middle, the pause - I understand what my dear friend knew. That grace was already with me, walking beside me, and that grace has always been the way.
And so, I give myself grace now. Permission to pause, to reflect, to let go. And to move forward with my head held high, allowing the accumulation of my experience to be my own personal page turner. All the ugly, all the beauty, all of it in its entirety, playing out exactly as it should.
Grace is not an Emotion - It's a Way of Being
Grace cannot be quantified. It is not a feeling. It is an awareness.
A companion.
A quiet unwavering presence we are born with.
A state of being that walks with us whether we recognise it or not.
Your Story is Still Being Written
If this resonates with you - if you, too, are navigating healing, change, or the turbulent middle - know this:
You are allowed to pause.
You are allowed to rewrite your story.
And you are allowed to walk forward with grace, even if you feel you've lost it.
Because grace never leaves.
Sometimes it just waits for you to notice it again.
Rebecca X
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