I know it’s Sunday and all, but no, I haven’t converted to Christianity. I have several issues with that religion, but that’s not why I’m writing tonight. I’m here tonight to talk about grace.

Grace is sometimes called forgiveness, but I think grace goes deepeer than that. I think grace is a state of being, of looking at things with not just an open mind, but an open heart. I’ve asked for grace from some people, and had that hand slapped away that I offered. Too soon in some circumstances, too late in others. But I’m working, daily, to achieve a state of grace. To quote Lord Buckely , when talking about Jesus:”The Nazz, he had those pretty eyes. They saw everything so pretty. I wish I could see what the Nazz saw.”

That quote may not be correct, btu I think it gets to the heart of the matter. Jesus saw everything with grace. He could look at a man, and know his troubles, his foibles, his failures. He could see what he’d done and what had been done to him, to get him or her to where they were. I sometimes wonder if that was more a blessing or a curse. He had to look into Judas’s heart and know the guy was going to burn him. But he had to let happen what happened happen. And he forgave him, His dad didn’t, but his dad’s kind of a douche. Read the Old Testament, and tell me he isn’t. But again, trying not to bash, but damn it’s hard some times.

I think any human who manages to try and work towards grace is taking a noble road. Because we aren’t God, or Jesus. we live in a world that’s designed to separate us and isolate us, all in the name of control by other people. And a lot of times, we fail. I know, because i fail at grace a lot, even though I ask for it a lot. I think I deserve some, but that’s because everyone should get some. I think if people gave themselves more grace, they’d want to give it out to others. Because forgiving yourself might be the hardest thing of all, but it’s necessary. Forgiveness starts not at home, but in your own mirror. If you can forgive yourself, you can start on the rest of the world. You’re going to fail at it sometimes, but you shouldn’t stop trying.

Tonight, I failed at grace. I was at the laundromat, and everything was going wrong. Wrong settings, wrong timers, lots of people crowding the place, and all the heat and noise, it wasn’t a whole lot of fun. And on top of everything else, there was this guy.

Thsi gentleman was driving everyone in the place nuts. He kept rapping Kendrick Lamar lyrics, but he wasn’t Kendrick. And he was doing it at the top of his lungs. It was making a bad evening worse.

As it went on, I just tried to block it out. But in my heart, man, I wanted to yell at him. I thought he was trying to show off, to impress. But he wasn’t, as I soon learned. And what I learned , and my reaction, both shocked and made me feel ashamed.

We both started leaving about the same time. He reached down into his empty basket and pulled out a mostly empty bottle of vodka. Most people would have been , what an asshole. That wasn’t my reaction. My mother was an alcoholic, and most alcoholism comes from a deep well of trauma. There’s other factors, but the biggest part fo it is a big would that the person has suffered, or is suffering.

So I wondered, and still do, what had happened to him, What he’d done to others or to himself. What he’d suffered, or made others suffer and felt guilty. What had made him crawl into that bottle tonight, and I’m assuming many other nights. And I wished that someone could help him. I thought about it, but I didn’t even know where to begin. And that feels like a failure on my part. You can say I’m not trained, or it’s not my business, but how many of us have felt alone, and wished someone would care? I couldn’t do it, too wrapped up in my own stuff.

In the end, I’m going to have to forgive myself. I’m nothing close to perfect. I’m trying to fix myself so I can start on fixing the damage I’ve caused. And maybe, just maybe, give myself some grace.

NOTE 1: All opinions on this page are mine, and not representative of any of my employers, relatives, or anyone else but me.

NOTE 2: This is my page, not yours. Comments are moderated. Play nice. Good night.