Discovering the Little Trinkets of Grace

Finding unexpected healing in what life hands us

Today, I feel lighter. I don’t know exactly why.

Perhaps it is the weather. Perhaps it was an unexpected email from a dear friend. Or a freshly groomed dog. Or a generative conversation about the deepest purpose and most expansive vision of our startup. Or the simple medicine of connecting with friends, family, and nature.

Or maybe it was the meditation that has been finding me these past few days.

It goes something like this:

I am breathing in stillness. Stillness heals me.
I am breathing into the soles of my feet. The soles of my feet heal me.
I am breathing in the sound of the birds. The sound of the birds heals me.
I am breathing in the pain in my heart. The pain in my heart heals me.

What strikes me is how much is contained in any present moment – hundreds of sensations and sounds if we open up our awareness. And the healing value of each one.

Some more obvious than others: sunlight, birdsong, a kind message. Others less so: worry, uncertainty, an ache in the heart. But when met with presence, even these can become part of the healing.

I’ve also been thinking about how natural healing really is. We tend to speak of healing as if it only belongs to the big wounds, the great losses, the visible heartbreaks. But maybe we are always healing from something.

A child comes in from playing with a scratch she barely noticed. It just needs washing, maybe a kiss. An athlete finishes a race — even a victorious one — and now needs water, rest, repair.

As all of us move through life, we stretch, love, worry, hope, bruise, begin again. And the present moment keeps offering little ways to tend our wounds, big and small.

So today, I am practicing receiving what is actually here: