Tonight laying with my son, my hand against his chest, his hand against my cheek, tears came to my eyes. I felt the warmth of his skin, listened to his breath softening and slowing down, and in the silence my mind recalled some of the things that quietly, deeply moved my heart this week — a thousand in everyday life.

~ The scene at a funeral on Monday. From across the cemetery, across the casket, I watched the hands of a friend – mother of four with their fifth on the way – so strongly, so assuredly, so gently holding one of her children to her chest as he called out for his daddy.

~ Listening to his brother give a reflection on his life, beginning to cry, and his other brother coming to stand alongside him.

~ Talking with another mom at the lunch following the funeral, watching her eyes swell up with tears – tears of deep sorrow and solidarity with our friend. No words were necessary. We both knew

~ Watching my daughter’s teacher bend down to look at a student of hers at our school potluck – her loving smile that said, “I see you” and “please. Tell me more.”

~ Watching the children turn on the sprinkler at the our school potluck to cool off from the heat of the day – soaking wet, laughing, spraying water, full of delight.

~ Watching my son – my growing son – shirtless and soaked from the sprinkler – his body so lean I could see his ribs – watching him so easily climb the playset…me pausing and actually saying out loud with tears in my eyes to another mom who so “gets it”, “My god, he is no longer a little boy.”

~ My daughter laying for an afternoon rest, our puppy jumping up on the couch and nestling himself so sweetly and quietly next to her to rest with her.

~ My daughter going to school – my husband taking the kiddos – my daughter turning back to me, blowing me a kiss, then “blowing me a hug,” and asking, “Did you get both, mommy?!” Me doing the same back and her saying, “I’ll carry them with me all day today!”

~ Three mom friends – in the same day – in short “sound bites” of conversations all saying the same thing: we do so much alone during the day and I am feeling lonely. I need to be with other moms and we need to move our bodies, so let’s walk!

~ Making love to my husband…reminding me of the line from Rumi, “The way you make love is the way God will be with you.”

~ A three hour conversation (when does this ever happen for a mom?!) with a colleague…reflecting on it later that evening and the deep knowing swam across my chest, “I already have everything I want. I don’t need anything. I already am what I always longed for.”

~ Potluck Thursday at our house – guests already playing and eating, making themselves at home before I even arrived, running so very late after such a long meeting!

~ New words to describe my writing and why I write: It’s my vocation, my calling, my offering to the world. A reminder from deep within that I listen, I write what I hear, I put it into the world, and I release it.  This is freedom.

~ Looking at the new art I am making – seeing the poetry whispered on my heart illustrated in front of me – and feeling, “Yes, it’s time this is out in the world.”

A thousand graces in everyday life that just show up, that open my heart so wide.  I’m going to bed tonight with a deep sense of ease. Everything is imperfect – I so need to vacuum, there is work left to do, inner work that calls to me and fears to hold – and yet all of it is perfect. Just as it is.

And I am grateful, so very grateful, for my heart to see the thousands of things in our everyday lives that are tiny, magnificent graces. This is when a deep sense of sense of expansiveness fills me. The ego rests. The “small” “i” rests. I am Home. “i” dissolve and Grace remains.

Friends, there is suffering in life — there’s no denying that.  Life can be HARD and messy.  And yet, there are graces — a thousand graces — that are around us.  Today as you go about your day, notice the graces.  Notice the ways the Beloved (the Divine), a friend, your partner, your child, or a stranger grace your life.  And then notice how the experience of these unprompted-just-for-you graces fill you with a sacred spaciousness.