Finding A State of Grace

I was walking through the woods last week, focusing on the camera in my hands when a wicked sticker bush snagged me and left an angry, bloody scratch across my leg. I ‘d like to tell you that I suffered the assault with grace and fortitude… but not so much. What the heck? What did I do to deserve that wound? I started to react in anger to trample the blasted weed, but just as I moved forward, the setting sun illuminated it, making it glow deep red and I could see each individual thorn and the spaces where the ones that were still stuck in my leg had been ripped from the stem and I wondered (Anthropomorphism runs deep in my veins) if perhaps the sticker bush felt undeservedly wounded as well? And isn’t that life, after all? You follow your path- sometimes paying attention, sometimes distracted- when something comes along and interrupts your progress, your thoughts, your dreams and you can rage against the thing or you can pause and look for the wonder in the midst of the thorns. You’re still sidetracked or perhaps wounded, but your fresh start- your healing, happens in a place of acceptance and in that acceptance- a state of grace.