Choose Grace!

I was standing in line at the post office last week, chatting with the woman next to me. As seems to be the norm these days, within minutes, we’d slid into all the hardships and upsets around us. Her brother’s health crisis. A few more friends have been diagnosed with breast cancer or Parkinson’s. Mass shootings and global uncertainty. Everywhere I go, coaching clients, friends, family, and strangers at the grocery store, it seems everyone has challenging and sad stories in their lives and is eager to share their woes.

And that’s just our personal worlds.

Zoom out to the national and global landscape? We’re being tossed around daily in chaos and confusion. Unthinkable crises unfold across the world. And here at home, we’re making enemies of each other, even within our families.

Maybe we’re all seeking comfort in our connection; in knowing we’re not alone in our sadness and anxiety.

When my life feels this hard, and my inner world won’t settle, I listen to wisdom teachers. Sometimes for hours a day, just to get my mind “right.” Podcasts. Audiobooks. I listen while I walk my dog, clean the house, and when I can’t sleep at night. Anything that might offer a lifeline. I just finished Pema Chodron’s “When Things Fall Apart,” a classic Tibetan Buddhist approach to suffering less by cultivating a mind that processes life’s ups and downs with greater equanimity. This practice really helps me!

Well, it’s New Year’s again, and every year at this time, when the momentum and prospect of a new year is upon us, I seek out a single word to be my “theme” for the year. A guiding principle for moving forward. A touchstone. A reminder of my spiritual practice, of who I’m becoming.

This year, the answer came quickly: Grace.

As soon as I heard it, I felt something shift. A little more peaceful. A little more grounded. It felt like something I could definitely lean into. I could imagine myself living with more grace in every moment of my life. That this practice would bring out my best self. My mind lit up, and my heart warmed. In that moment, I breathed in the feeling of grace, and I felt peace. I knew I had found my word, my guidance for my spiritual practice in 2026.

And then the questions arose: What does it mean to have grace? To live with grace? To embody grace? To offer grace to others? If grace were my guiding principle, what would my day look and feel like?

I’ve often wished I had a deeper sense of faith. Something about grace brings me closer to that longing. Grace feels godly to me, like touching something larger than myself, something that holds me even when I can’t hold myself.

But it’s also practical. Grace is a choice. It’s a guide for how to think, feel, and behave. It embodies the decision to act with understanding, compassion, and yes, even forgiveness.

I’ve been reflecting on this last year, remembering the times when I was not my most evolved self. Occasions where I could benefit from discovering the golden lessons within, waiting for me to own my sh*t, and perhaps become a being of grace.

A couple of avoidable mistakes cost me financially. I messed up my property tax payment simply because I didn’t move funds from one bank account to another. I’d actually sent the check early, but when I got an email about insufficient funds, I thought I could just move the money and the check would magically go through. This is not how bounced checks work, and I never confirmed that it cleared. The worst moment? Standing at the counter at the tax collector’s office, tears streaming down my face, I wrote out the penalty check. The woman behind the counter? Complete stone face. Zero sympathy as she slid the penalty amount on a piece of paper across the counter without a word. Cost me $1000. This wasn’t her first rodeo!! A similar carelessness left me without dental insurance for six months. Another $1000 out of pocket.

On both occasions, I had my usual, less-than-ideal immediate reactions. I blamed everyone else I could. Even trying to prove that I had been unfairly treated or that my mistakes were understandable, and I should get a pass. Then I blamed myself. Then I sat in shame and self-pity.

But it was in that lowest moment, walking away from the tax collector, that I finally heard my Inner Nurturing Parent voice speak up. Kind but truthful. My Nurturing Parent offered me grace, acknowledging how painful mistakes feel while gently pointing me toward the truth: It’s important to learn and grow from our errors. We all make them. And it would be wise for me to pay closer attention to the finer details when paying my bills. And perhaps in other areas as well.

Grace didn’t let me off the hook. It did not offer a pass on responsibility. Quite the contrary. It woke me up. It reminded me that I have many skills for navigating life. I know how to take responsibility when I have a negative impact. I know how to own my part, make repairs, and make corrections. And in that ownership, I find my peace, and I grow closer to the elevated state of my Future Self. In that moment, I felt myself returning to a clear mind and committing to doing better.

This is what grace does. It creates space between our mistakes and our identity. It allows us to be human without being destroyed by our humanity. Grace doesn’t excuse us from responsibility. It actually makes responsibility possible by removing the paralyzing weight of shame.

But here’s where it gets harder: Can we offer that same grace to others?

In a world where we’re increasingly divided, where we dehumanize those who disagree with us or hurt us, where someone’s political stance or personal choices can turn them into an enemy, what would it look like to step into grace?

I want to be clear: grace doesn’t mean condoning harmful behavior or abandoning our values. It doesn’t mean we don’t hold boundaries or speak truth. Grace means we do those things without losing our own humanity. Without making others less than human because they think or act differently than we want them to.

When I practice grace with others, I’m not saying “what you did is okay with me.” I’m saying, “You are still a person worthy of dignity, even when I profoundly disagree with you.”

That’s radical. That’s hard. And honestly, I’m not always capable of it.

But I’m learning that when I withhold grace from others, I’m the one who suffers most. Resentment, righteousness, and blame, these emotions eat away at my peace. They keep me trapped in a story where I’m right, and they’re wrong, where I’m good and they’re bad. And in that story, there’s no room for connection, understanding, or healing.

Grace is the bridge. Grace is what allows us to stay open even when everything in us wants to close down. Grace is how we remain connected to something larger, to love, to humanity, to God, to whatever name we give that transcendent force that holds us all.

Practicing Grace

As we move into 2026, I hope you will join me in practicing choosing grace. I would start with exploring what grace would look and feel like to you.

And I might ask as a daily practice, where are you withholding grace? Maybe it’s from yourself for not being perfect. Maybe it’s from your partner for being human. Maybe it’s from a stranger whose choices you don’t understand. Maybe it’s from someone whose politics tends to activate your rage, or even someone who harmed you in some way.

Notice where you’re holding on tight to being right, to making someone wrong, to maintaining your suffering. And then, just for a moment, see what it feels like to invite grace in its place. Not because they deserve it. Not because you’re condoning anything. But because grace is the path back to yourself. Back to peace. Back to freedom. Back to a loving heart.

Here’s to a year of grace for ourselves, each other, and for this beautiful world that so needs us to be our most graceful selves.

Happy New Year!!

With love, Emily

Come to The Ranch in 2026! Here’s a link to my website page that has all of my dates when I will be teaching my new Inner Fitness Program!