I hold my face between my hands.
No, I am not crying.
I hold my face between my hands
to keep my loneliness warm —
two hands protecting,
two hands nourishing,
two hands to prevent
my soul from leaving me
in anger.

– Thich Nhat Hanh, “For Warmth“

Grace and Forgiveness

I have been thinking about grace. An essay by Anne Lamott, “Counting Our Blessings: Why We Say Grace” crosses my path around Thanksgiving every year. I have been thinking about the connection between grace and forgiveness. I have been thinking about the connection between grace and justice. I have been thinking about the difference between grace and free will. I was taught along my path that we are born into grace — a grace that is freely given. That grace requires that we love one another above all else. Forgiveness is born of that kind of grace. Kindness is born of that kind of grace. Justice is born of that kind of grace. Free will is born of that kind of grace. That kind of grace feels hard, and perhaps impossible right now.

Grace in Action

Grace looks like reaching out to someone who deeply wronged you. Grace looks like sharing a meal with someone with whom you disagree. Grace looks like keeping your core values while listening to opposing views. Grace looks like the relentless pursuit of understanding. Grace looks like healthy boundaries. Grace is not civility at the expense of integrity and truth. Grace is not a one-and-off experience in which we give it, magic happens, and we move on. Grace is not simply forgiveness without any consideration for life’s gray areas. Though dualities — like right and wrong and good and bad — are simplistically attractive and potentially comforting, grace asks us to dig a little deeper, to the soil of our being and nourish the roots of love in our lives.

Grace When It’s Hard

I want to suggest that there is hard grace and easy grace. At the heart of all grace is the idea of interconnection. We are all interconnected. We are all on physical and spiritual journeys that allow us to experience grief and wonder and pain and joy. Easy grace asks that we pay attention and be awake to the beauty in the world. Easy grace asks us to be thankful and humble in the presence of all that is. Hard grace is something else. Hard grace asks that we forgive 7×70 and does not separate forgiveness from justice. Hard grace asks that we cultivate self-awareness and examine our role in difficult situations. Hard grace requires vulnerability. All grace, both easy and hard, grow from intimacy with one another. We are both the sea and the wave. We are the root and the bud. We are the sun and moon. We are the seasons. I suspect hard grace, the kind not easily achieved, is deep and vast and abiding like the sea, flowers, sky, and seasons. When I think of grace like that — that its power comes from an unshakable universal center — I can breathe, and be still and know.