Steaming Genmaicha

In each breath exists a space
For You to fill with grace.

Grace. “I do not think it means what you think it means.” At least, I don’t. The words “space”, “breath” and “grace” stretched around my brain until they stilled into the rhyming couplet. 

The word has its linguistic origins in ‘gratus’ meaning: pleasing, thankful. But I feel it goes deeper than this. We use it in so many ways; it’s as if the word is a prism that we can only understand by turning to see each face. 

From the dictionary:

  • she moved through the water with effortless grace.
  • at least he has the grace to admit his debt to her.
  • she has all the social graces.
  • the graces of the Holy Spirit.
  • he fell from grace because of drug use at the Olympics.
  • another three days’ grace period.
  • before dinner the Reverend Newman said grace.
  • His Grace, the Duke of Atholl.
  • she bowed out from the sport she has graced for two decades.
  • Ms. Pasco has graced the front pages of magazines like Elle and Vogue .

be in someone’s good (or bad ) graces 
there but for the grace of God ( go I )
the ( Three ) Graces Greek Mythology three beautiful goddesses (Aglaia, Thalia, and Euphrosyne), daughters of Zeus. They were believed to personify and bestow charm, grace, and beauty.
with good (or bad ) grace 

(I sit here writing this in quiet. It won’t last long. Soon enough my son will turn on the Christmas music to inspired himself to move on this cold morning. Decorations are forbidden until after Thanksgiving, but I don’t mind the music a little early. Except I hate repeats. I ordered a dozen holiday cds from the library to add to our playlist. Plus, we purchased the latest albums from Pentatonix and HomeFree– love ’em! What’s your favorite holiday music?)

Back to grace, my conundrum. Why did I capitalize the “You”? It seemed correct, but to whom is the rhyme addressing? God? The human collective? Or is it a strongly emphasized personal invitation? No idea. It doesn’t matter. It does matter. I may never understand what I’m searching for in the word. But I can do grace. I can breath it in, move my body, or hold the hands of those I love around the table.

Yet being me, I will continue to ponder the word over my tea and- is that “Sleigh Ride” I hear? Time to pick up the new music so my son stays in my good graces.

Rise unfettered.
Move with intention.
Be grand.

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