In search of grace
By Emma Palova
EW Emma’s Writings
Lowell, MI- I write this not only in response to the Daily Post @graceful photo prompt, but also to find solace and reprieve in grace.
Contrary to my better judgment, I’ve been writing a lot about politics lately. I don’t know if I’ve been doing that to make myself feel better or more responsive to what has been going on in North America, UK and the Middle East.
And I still don’t know if it was the journalist bursting out of me, or the Czech ex-patriot living currently in America. I guess, I’ll never know.
Somebody once said that the worst thing of all is “indifference.” No matter, how hard I try to be immune to it all, the current affairs just bug me.
I am trying to find the grace in me, to accept the future of democracy.
Along with writing about religion, writing about politics, no matter how unbiased, usually gets me into trouble. I really don’t need any distraction at a time when I’ve picked up the momentum to finish the “Greenwich Meridian” memoir about the Konecny family immigration saga.
After coming back from Aunt Marta’s funeral in mid January in Czech Republic, I was so re-energized to finish the memoir, and to pursue the greater Konecny Saga picture. I made space for it in my mind, in my studio and in my work day.
I’ve gathered the necessary research, started the Ancestry Konecny Facebook page, caught up with the Alumni ZDS Stipa page to set the stage for everything to finally wrap up. I have built up the following on social media and most platforms that I know of. I hooked up with a dear director friend whom we seem to have similar goals, at times.
Thanks to my never-ending insomnia, I am caught up with client projects into 2017 as they constantly evolve. I did all the little bureaucracy that I needed to do, put things in fancy five-star folders, and such. I straightened my affairs both here and there, and in between.
I’ve communicated and answered messages both domestic and foreign; on messenger, on text, on Skype, and on phone.
I said hi to an old friend of Irish origin at church last Sunday. I asked about the immigrant family from Africa that the church had sponsored in 2016. I was supposed to teach them English as a Second Language (ESL), but other projects came up.
“Oh, I’ve been neglecting them since it’s so cold outside,” he said. “I really feel bad.”
“Me too,” I thought, without any particular reference to anything.
So what happened? The world happened. I am burnt out like a candle, like the fire in our wood stove.
Even host Alfonso Ribeiro on AFV last Sunday said, “I am out like acid-washed jeans or mullets.”
It’s a cold early afternoon in January. The day is grayish, and so are my heart and soul.
“So, what are you going to do for yourself, today,” Facebook friend Fiosa posted this Monday morning.
Somebody out there on that vast Internet sea responded:
“I am going to look for a job.”
Just before reading that, I arranged my beautiful collection of blooming orchids for a photo shoot for the @graceful photo prompt.
If I really love anything and need anything when I feel whipped, it’s these enigmatic flowers. They literally speak to me in their own language with their beautiful shapes and colors and their bold structure.
They come into full bloom during the deepest frosts Up North in Michigan. They engage in nothing but themselves, in their own grace.
Where do you find grace?
Thank you for being.
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