I woke up in a foul mood. Nothing was wrong, really. I had just started the morning by rehearsing an old story in my head, one of those familiar narratives that likes to resurface now and then. You probably know the kind: mostly untrue, not especially helpful, yet stubborn enough to shape the mood of the day anyway.
Thankfully, the day turned itself around. Later, I met up with one of my favorite people, a dear person who moved to another state years ago and was back in town for a visit. She had just gotten off a bus and was walking toward the coffee shop where we planned to meet. At the very same time, I was leaving my driveway, windows down, on a warm October afternoon. It was fun to think of ourselves in real time on our way toward one another. For some reason, that simple thought lifted me.
That’s a feeling I want to hold onto — We’re on our way toward one another — and maybe make it into a narrative of its own.
There is so much division. There is so much separation. There is so much contempt. There is so much loss. I don’t want to deny these realities, of course, but I do want to anticipate something different — something in process, something connectional.
Maybe that’s what I mean by anticipating one another: keeping a kind of readiness for goodness, for kinship, for what might grow between us if we stay open to it.
—Renee Roederer
Smuggling Grace 