A Single Moment of Grace

Here in the U.S., it's a week before Thanksgiving ~ a time that can feel tender and complicated (for all sorts of reasons). Plus, it's also the final stretch of 2025, so we're living with less and less light each day. And when you layer collective overwhelm on top of the inevitable holiday intensity, it’s a lot for a nervous system to hold. So, if you feel kind of numbed out or overloaded right now ~ you're not alone ❤️

To help cope with the overwhelm, I’ve been doing my best to go for a walk most days to decompress ~ and it really helps.

I shared a James Crews poem in my last email, and this week another one found its way to me. I wanted to share it with you today:

Simple Grace
by James Crews

A single moment of grace is all it takes
to burn the past, leaves piled up like
spent wishes and fears, all those stalks
of gone-to-seed perennials past their prime
crackling into flame. It happens simply,
softly, when you see a porcupine feeding
on the still-green leaves of coltsfoot growing
at the edge of the yard, and you are immersed
in the tangible world that is also your own,
watching the tender animal nudge and nuzzle
among the brush, wearing his crown of quills.
All the guilt and shame you have carried
vanishing into harmless wisps of smoke
as a smile curls the corners of your mouth.

Getting "immersed in the tangible world" is a potent way to soothe the nervous system and interrupt unhelpful thinking. This poem feels like an invitation to notice the small, ordinary miracles that can happen any time, and that bring near-immediate relief. These moments of simple grace don’t order us to "cheer up," they find us where we are and remind us that beauty doesn’t care how chaotic life feels. It silently insists and says, "This is true, too."

Here are a few "tangible world" moments from the last week or two:

A bright purple morning glory blooming after heavy rain.

A bear and a shark skateboarding along the Strand in Oceanside.

A rock holding its balance as the sun sets.

These sweet, momentary experiences helped me feel more grounded and centered ~ and reconnected with a sense of possibility. I hope that seeing them here gives you something, too.

To practice a bit more with this idea of simple grace, I invite you to put a hand on your heart and take three breaths:

With each inhale, say to yourself: a single moment of grace

With each exhale, say: is all it takes

When you finish, notice how you feel.

If you’ll soon be traveling and/or navigating complicated family dynamics, or if you're just feeling the intensity of ongoing collective life, perhaps this idea of simple grace can help fortify and steady you. Maybe in the next week you'll notice something that surprises you with its insistence on beauty, or its absurdity, or its balance.

❤️

Wishing you many moments of simple grace ❤️