I have experienced grace.  Grace can be:

  • …seen in the flowing moves of a gifted dancer—the simple elegance of refined movement. 
  • …observed as a special favor of extended time when you really need it most. 
  • …the patience that we grant ourselves in the daily process of improvement.  

And yes, grace is even found in “your work”– your unique contribution to the world.   

We don’t often think of grace this way, however it facilitates discovering and shaping your personal influence on others.  Grace allows you to feel good about deferring any harmful self-judgement in the process of forging your work. It provides a suspension of self-doubt as you figure things out.

Personally, it is tempting for me to compare myself to the talent of writers that I want to emulate.  When I do compare, it highlights the gulf between their legendary results and my meager efforts.  When I contrast my skills with theirs, I begin to see developmental areas that take me closer to their capabilities–even if that will be years in the making.  Seeing a path provides hope, and hope encourages more grace.

However, grace encourages me to be patient in developing my own writing talent, and my own work. It helps me avoid harmful comparisons and focus instead on the contrasts that clarify what I need to develop.  

Rather than fixate on ultimate outcomes in the future, I can focus on my work today.

Giving yourself the simple gift of patience allows you to experience grace as you heat, and shape, and mold your work.  And grace allows you to feel the hope of restarting a new day. 

Of forging yet again.