How Often Do You Experience Grace and Ease?
“How often does you with operate grace and ease in your work?” was a question that was posed to people in a three-day training class which I facilitated too many times to count. No matter the group composition, no matter the location, no matter the business unit, the question met with the same vacant look.
The responses were telling. There was nary a single soul who affirmed that they or their team was operating with grace and ease. Instead, there would be a collective sigh. I could see a longing that would cover over faces. Grace and ease was nowhere to be found, nor was it seemingly within reach.
The idea of “grace and ease” would settle on folks like fairy dust as they wistfully imagined a workplace where one where you could move with grace and ease. One in which things flowed smoothly. One in which there was camaraderie and a spirit of working together to get the right things done.
The notion of grace and ease was enticing but elusive.
Instead, as people described their work, their teams, their experiences, the descriptions were of toil, strife, meaninglessness, difficulty, frustration, and confusion.
It was thrashing about rather than operating with grace and ease. That thrashing seemed to be just to keep one’s head above water, to work hard not to drown and to survive for another day. This thrashing about was consuming lots of energy with little forward progress.
Rather than grace and ease — it was difficulty and struggle, leaving people depleted and disheartened.
Even though that was many years ago, it seems that grace and ease is even more elusive today and that thrashing has only increased. I see few organizations, teams or individuals who seem to be navigating their work with grace and ease.
I, too, fall prey to thrashing about. The impact of the pandemic on my consulting business clearly took me off center and scrambling to find new footing. I have struggled for the past year to regain what I did have before, which was operating in grace and ease most days.
Yes, I am one of the lucky ones. One that had created a career that, on most days, allowed me to move with grace and ease. I know what this state looked and felt like. And I longed to return there.
For when I am in that place of grace and ease, the right work seems to come to me. I can assemble the perfect team that serves my client well. Money flows in and money flows out. Days are filled with a sense of accomplishment of working on things that really matter. There is a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day. I may be tired, but it is the “good” tired that comes from solid work.
I’ve learned in the past year that you can’t plan or control your way into grace and ease.
What gets me to these periods of grace and ease is the audacious act of letting go. Of not forcing an outcome. Of fully accepting what is and knowing that it will not always be that way. Of breathing. Of focusing on where I want to be instead of where I am. Of finding inspiration outside of me, in nature, in art, in literature, and in other humans who inspire me. Of getting grounded on the inside — of reminding myself of my core values, my strengths, and all the goodness in my life.
When I am thrashing, I’ve become astute enough to know that my primitive brain has kicked in. My amygdala has highjacked my thinking and pushed aside my clearer, better, and more creative thinking. In lizard brain mode I am either fighting what is, fleeing what I fear, or freezing in response to the unwanted.
With that awareness, I am striving to be alert when I am in fight, flight or freeze mode. To notice those states and then to consciously choose a different response — to be in flow. In flow, I am accepting of what is, even when it is unwelcome or unpleasant. In flow, I freeze just long enough to reflect on the situation and figure out a plan, and then unfreeze and move forward. In flow, I flow I don’t flee blindly, but use that momentum to move me into a better place rather than away from what I don’t want.
When I forego fighting, fleeing, or freezing and move into flow, grace and ease return.
Ease comes to me when I use my energy in positive ways. When I let go of what doesn’t matter and focus on what does. When I uncomplicate things and get to the core of what is important. When I focus on the essence instead of the trappings. When I stop planning for all possible problems and trust I will have the wherewithal to navigate any issues that come our way. When I let go of unrelenting striving for perfection and focus more on others than on myself.
After ease comes grace. As I seek to be graceful, I remind myself that at the highest level, grace exemplified by those in the toughest situations. When those the most wronged find the strength to forgive. When those who have not been extended grace are still able to extend it. When those of us who are tired, overwhelmed, and fearful can reach deep inside and find the will to be kind, even when our instincts tell us otherwise.
This past year has been a year of comeuppance for me. One of getting knocked off my old, well worn path of “grace and ease” and finding myself in a new place I hardly recognized. In the past year I’ve reverted to fighting and to freezing and to fleeing — all responses to this new and scary place I found myself in. And finally one of moving more into flow.
It has also been a place of deep reflection that has allowed for the reemergence of grace and ease in new forms and shapes. For while states of grace and ease are not permanent, they can be recreated. They can be nurtured. They can occur more frequenlty — but only with tending. For grace and ease is not externally created. It is internally birthed when we bow to current reality and ask ourselves how to bring forward our highest selves in this exact moment.
