A Grace-Filled Spiritual Practice of Gratitude, Grief, and Generosity

Ethan, who is one of our five adorable grandchildren, and his beautiful smile.

 

"Everything we think, feel, and do has an effect on our ancestors and all future generations and reverberates throughout the Universe. Therefore, our smile helps everyone." — Thích Nhất Hạnh

 

Yesterday I was in Portland doing errands when I was stopped for a light in the middle of three lanes and four cars back. I saw the man on the corner holding his sign that read "Need Tarp" and thought of all the torrential rains that have been happening on and off for days. My heart ached. And I immediately reached for my stash of one dollar bills, rolled down my window, and yelled "Here you go!" Then I noticed a man right next to me crossing the left lane and reaching out his hand, smiling, and saying, "I'll give it to him. Thanks!" And I continued to smile at him. "Bless you." And I watched as he crossed back over to the sidewalk and walked towards his friend and then turned around and said, "Beautiful smile! Beautiful smile!" And when the light turned green and I drove slowly past the two men, we were just all smiling and waving and flashing the peace sign to each other. It was a beautiful thing.

 

And I thought of Thích Nhất Hạnh and how our smile helps everyone. 

 

***** 

"We're here to awaken from the illusion of our 

separateness." — Thích Nhất Hạnh

 

I used to not stop or look or give a dollar to anyone on a corner. Maybe I'd try to steal a quick look at their sign. But mostly I'd drive by numb to the hurting human being before me. Then, over the course of the many years of my healing and gradual awakening, things continued to shift for me inwardly. And I found myself starting to stop to give a dollar here and there while also continuing to discriminate if I thought this particular person on this particular corner was worthy... or not.

Wow, even as I write this, I am mindful of feeling this twinge of discomfort in my belly and sadness in my heart. 

 

And also gratitude. Deep gratitude. Because, and increasingly so with each year as I grow older, I don't have to sit there in judgment of human beings who are in pain. Instead I feel compassion and sadness permeating my heart. It doesn't matter how they ended up on that corner, whether they're an addict or not, what their  little signs say, their age or race or gender, whether they might be a veteran or not, and all the little and big ways that I used to dehumanize and numb myself to the suffering of others. 

Today everyone I can possibly reach out to with my dollar gets one. And it's not the money that really counts, although it certainly helps, at least in the eyes of those on the receiving end. What compels me today to extend my dollar freely is that I am also extending my heart. As I say "bless you," smile, and try to engage in eye contact, what I am most deeply communicating is, "I see you. I care about you." Shame pulls many into not being able to look into my eyes. Drugs may also numb the hearts and impair the capacity to receive what my heart offers. But no matter. I offer my unconditional caring anyway. Because it is the right thing to do. Because I care and I care deeply.

And I am able to care as I do because I drive by and, with the eyes of my heart, I see tents and poverty, addictions and mental illness, trauma and despair, economic and racial injustice, and so much suffering all around me. And I allow that suffering to enter my heart. I have allowed my heart to open and to break. Again and again and again. And I grieve. And as I allow the grief that is such an essential part of being human to become more and more familiar, I am able to step back from the unreality of expecting life to just be happy and to instead befriend sorrow and move into embracing life as it is. As Francis Weller wisely writes, "It is the broken heart, the part that knows sorrow, that is capable of genuine love."

 

Paradoxically, it is because I cry a lot that I also laugh a lot. The two are intimately connected. Allowing myself to see what I see and feel what I feel, rather than avoid and build walls of disassociation, distraction, denial, and illusions — which is what I did for many years — is how my heart grows strong and resilient. And as the strength of my heart grows, so too does my capacity to hold more and more of the suffering and the joy within my own life and in our beautiful hurting world. I am no longer compelled to turn away as I once was. I am looking directly at this pain of others and allowing the truth to penetrate my being. And just as I am able to allow grief and sorrow, so too am I mindful of the simple things that nourish my heart and bring me joy... like looking out my window in this moment and seeing the wind blowing in the tall beautiful fir tree in our yard.

What an extraordinary gift! It is truly an experience of grace, courage, and love to recognize and let go of our illusion of separateness and to experience the profound blessing of an awakening heart. This empowers us to recognize that the suffering and the joy of other humans and non-humans is also ours. We are not separate — we are all connected, all related, all family.

*****

"An act of love, a voluntary taking on oneself of some

of the pain of the world, increases the courage and

love and hope of all." — Dorothy Day

This taking on more and more of the pain of the world I believe only becomes possible for us as we first attend the pain that we carry in our own hearts. My journey, and the countless journeys of others that I have been witness to, has taught me the truth that we will only go as deep with anyone else as we have first gone within ourselves. If we're sitting on a pile of unattended pain and denied grief, we're not going to be able to allow the suffering, losses, and grief of others into our hearts. We will be compelled to turn away, as I was for many years. 

 

I write this with the deepest humility and compassion as one who has known both sides — this turning away and shutting down, shutting out, shutting up. And I know what it is to root into a path of healing, awakening, and transformation. I have also been deeply blessed with so many courageous and loving teachers along the way. And I truly get it that we will only go as deep as the support that we perceive is available to us. Because we humans are relational beings, connecting with others who are grounded in a commitment to live wholeheartedly is essential for most of us to live full rather than diminished lives.

There are gifts to be found in our deepest sorrows and losses. There are strengths and wisdom and a depth of love and caring that can emerge out of this process of facing our own and our world's deepest sorrows. And out of our shared connection with our own pain and that of others, we may then become empowered to not turn away when the many faces of suffering is before us. We may instead truly see that person standing out on a street corner and do something to help. And this is only one of countless ways in which we can engage in transforming our grief into compassionate action. Which makes me smile. What a beautiful thing it is to do our part in taking on some of the pain of our world. That is truly something to be grateful for.

I'm moved to share someone who I've most recently adopted as one of my beloved teachers. And this is Francis Weller and his book, The Wild Edge of Sorrow: Rituals of Renewal and the Sacred Work of Grief — https://www.francisweller.net/books.html. You may also find this helpful if you haven't already picked up this book. One other book that I am currently reading that I am deeply appreciating is Pema Chödrön's latest book, Welcoming the Unwelcome: Wholehearted Living In a Brokenhearted World — https://www.shambhala.com/welcoming-the-unwelcome.html. Pema Chödrön writes: "Only by learning to fully embrace all aspects of ourselves--even the most seemingly negative elements of our minds and hearts--will we learn to fully embrace others. Only by discovering the basic goodness in both our lotus and our mud, will we come to see the basic goodness of all living things." These are, of course, just two among countless other excellent resources.

 

*****

"Our greatest strength lies in the gentleness and

tenderness of our heart." — Rumi

Today's world is filled with the many faces of violence and suffering and injustice. It is also filled with beauty and courage, healing and tenderness, wisdom and compassion, grace and love. 

 

It is my belief that we humans all fall somewhere on the continuum with ignorance/being asleep on the one end and consciousness and embodying an awakened heart on the other. This awareness fills me with compassion for each of us, wherever we may be in our soul's journey in these human bodies in this lifetime that we are living. It is not easy to be human. And e.e. cummings speaks the truth when he states, "It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are." It does! 

 

And as Ram Dass has said, "We're all just walking each other home." Healing and opening our hearts, smiling and reaching out our hands, intervening on ourselves when we're in a trigger that tells us to shut down and judge, again and again and again returning to compassion — all this and more can empower us to claim our greatest strength, which lies in the gentleness and tenderness of our hearts.

 

And this leads us straight into the deepest Grace that nourishes our great capacity for gratitude, grief, and generosity. Such a beautiful thing, this Grace that breaks our hearts open and helps us to become who we truly are.

And along the way, let us inspire and be inspired. And remember that our smile helps everyone. ❤

With deepest blessings,

Molly