I am enamoured with moorhen. I love the ease with which they glide across the water. Gracefully and in perfect stillness, they sail effortlessly. All around me the mark of winter’s touch is seen in the dry grass and bare leafless trees. But as they wade through the dry reeds on the water, they bring with them the graceful touch of life. As the gentle breeze brushes against my skin and the fading winter sun brings the comfort of warmth, I find myself thinking of how peaceful it would feel the carry the grace of floating yellowbilled ducks and moorhen into my own movement and in the way that I sail through life’s many experiences – with the same leisurely sense of trust, coupled with a deep sense of purpose at the same time. For the moment, I close my eyes and bask in the essence of what I’ve observed, with the word Grace as a mantra echoing in the quiet spaces within me. Something in me whispers:

“Great Mother Earth, Goddess, Divine Spirit…show me how to witness and invite the flow of grace into my life, into my experiences and into my heart.”

Listening, I hear the dry grass and reeds rustling. And then the knowing sets in. The knowing that grace is found in breathing, in noticing and in being present to the mystery of what is before me in this moment, as well as what is within me.