All of life is a choice. It’s just one big choice, one big question, “Do you choose to live?”
At one point in time, we’ve all made the biggest choice there is: to come to this life, this planet, this time period. Once you’re here, that’s it. There’s no turning back, you’re committed baby.
I myself get stuck in the ‘why’ of it. Why in the hell would I choose THIS planet? THIS species? And oddly enough, even with the angst I bring myself with asking that question, I find grace there. One definition of grace states that it is the spiritual freedom that arises when you realize that life is a gift. I like that definition. It’s simple, sweet, and leaves God out of it.
I take the idea of grace further. I consider the gift of grace to be a gift of homeostasis, or balance, with the earth. It is a state of acceptance that you may be thrown out of balance, but that very act of being out of balance allows you to see what no longer serves you and your life so that you may find a new balance that DOES serve you.
And so it is with choices. Each choice you make is a reflection of the presence and state of the grace in your life, and what role your grace has for you. How you make a decision and how you choose an action can be followed back in a direct line to the state of your heart.
My grace is found in the most unholy of places, made holy by her presence. My grace is found in midnight panic attacks, the ones that take my breath away and have me clawing at my bedsheets in a most unholy act of worshipping the way it all falls apart. Grace inevitably makes her entrance when I’m at my most helpless. Sometimes she’s found in a swig of rum straight from the bottle, where she serves to remind my insides of the fiery existence of my heart, and jumpstarts the blood flow through my brain and body once more. Sometimes she hides in the telephone wave lengths of a midnight phone call to my one-and-only support line when my choices have all turned to lead in my gut. Sometimes she is simply found in my own voice, as I remind myself of the fierce love I hold for ME.
And my grace, she reminds me that I have chosen to be alive. And so I choose to accept her wisdom, even at the times when I think I’ve given up, those times that hurt the most. So I allow her to bathe my face and I let her gently convince me to release my white-knuckled grip on all my ragged bits that have come to the surface in the midst of my panic. And together we put the pieces back together.
This is how I find grace in the hard choices, the ones that just won’t leave me. She’s just always there, I simply have to listen to her wisdom that yes, life is a gift.