Accidental Grace

Last week I was in a car accident. Both vehicles were totaled; no one was hurt.

I was a passenger. The other car hit us close to where I was sitting, spinning our car 90 degrees backward into the intersection. In that split second of impact, I capital ‘K’ Knew two things: I would be unharmed. And we were all being held in Grace.

Dazed, we three emerged from the wreckage to see if the other guy was ok. (He was.) Just then, a passing angel—dressed up as a Monday evening commuter—paused to ask if we needed help moving our disabled car. We turned to him, wearing what must’ve been deer-in-the-headlights expressions.

‘Right,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back in a flash with my tractor.’

After dragging the broken car safely out of evening traffic, he kindly offered to drive us anywhere we needed to go. (Although upon hearing my accent, he cautioned us that he couldn’t drive us to America, as he had to get up for work in the morning!)

We thanked him for his very sweet offer, but chose to stay with the wrecked car instead.

The Catch-22 of Grace

This unexpected (and unwanted!) incident of pure Grace turned out to be pivotal, maybe even life changing, for the driver of our vehicle.

But before we get into all of that, let’s back up for a minute to take a quick look at the the expression ‘Catch-22.’ And why it applies to Grace. Because it indirectly hints at something important.

Catch-22: A paradox in which the attempt to escape…makes escape impossible.

The actual Catch-22, from Joseph Heller’s dark wartime comedy novel of the same name, referred to a circular bit of military logic which stated that you can’t be exempted from flying dangerous bombing missions by reason of insanity…because asking to get out of flying dangerous bombing missions is proof of sanity. Because you’d have to be crazy not to want to get out of it. So if you ask to be exempted, you must obviously be sane.

What does this Catch-22 principle have to do with Grace? Think about it:

Grace is here always. Its whereabouts and motivations are not the slightest bit mysterious; it’s ready in every moment to swoop in and lift us.

(Grace by the way, as I would define it, is a function of, or a byproduct of, higher divine intelligence. It’s my catchall term for that spark of the sacred divine, wherever it appears.)

Grace is—or ought to be—a natural two-way flow between a human being and All That Is. Our only job is to get out of the way and let it happen.

But seriously. When’s the last time it actually worked that way? Deciding to get out of the way, and then being able to really do that? Calling Grace in, much like those indigenous children who invite the whales?

(How do you communicate with those whales? How do you get them to come?, ask the incredulous tourists. I dunno, the children shrug. We just do.)

Have you ever thought to yourself—or proclaimed in prayer—I’m so done with this (fill in the blank) thing. I’ve suffered long enough! I give in! I’m taking my hands off the wheel. I’ll get out of the way and let myself be lifted.

And then nothing changes. Because it was a purely mental idea of surrender. Not actual surrender. And Grace respects that sealed doorway; it won’t go where it isn’t truly wanted.

At this point in our dubious history, humanity seems to have lost that natural ability to call Grace in. To make the conscious choice to step aside, and simply allow the immediate divine response to show up as it will.

This is the sorry Catch-22-ish state of affairs in which we seem to find ourselves.

Catch-22-ish, because the harder we try to get out of the way in hopes of letting Grace in, the more it’s guaranteed to be nothing more than a mental surrender. Why? Because ‘trying’ is the busywork of the egoic programming. The veil. The very thing we’re asking to be lifted from.

True surrender is the opposite of trying.

Ok Smarty, (you might be thinking), since we’re no longer in touch with our naturally Grace-ful abilities…how do we surrender, when it feels like we just can’t manage to let go?

Answer: We don’t. we can’t. These days, the sudden ability to melt into a puddle of nonresistant goo and truly let go, is a spontaneous act of Grace. It’s not actually us (meaning the small-self ‘us’) that’s doing it. We’ve lost the ability, so Grace itself is in charge of the letting go: In that unplanned illuminated moment, we’re suddenly able to back off, through no cleverness of our own…leaving Grace instantly free to swoop in for the lifting.

To sum up: Trying gets us nowhere. Not trying is an act of Grace. All of which means the desire to receive Grace can be a bit like standing on the shore, aimlessly hoping the whales will someday decide to come.

Except…now and then it isn’t like that at all. And then Catch-22 simply doesn’t apply.

Back to the car crash

Still in shock from the accident itself, my friend’s usual, robust egoic structure had no choice but to take a back seat. A very different driver was now at the wheel.

In those long hours as night closed in, and we waited for the breakdown vehicle to arrive, a great many stuck beliefs and half-hidden agonies arose, washing over my friend in great waves: Paroxysms of guilt and horror at what could’ve happened to me, and to his (equally unharmed) wife in the back seat—feverish imaginings which tapped directly, with divine precision, into preexisting unresolved trauma.

Eventually guilt and horror gave way to the quicksand of financial fears; he’d only owned this car for a few months. How could he possibly afford to buy a new one?

Which then gave rise to the all-important question: Many times over the years he’d sincerely stated to the universe, I’m here to serve humanity and the earth, in these transitional times. I know I have personal baggage that must be shed, in order to be as truly helpful as I can. I am willing. And he’d meant it. He’d been walking his talk to the best of his ability, for years.

Soooo….how could something like this dreadful car accident have happened to him? Was he being punished?

And like molten lava from a volcano, all the secret inner doubt came spewing out. Doubt in himself. Doubt in the goodness of a Love-based universe.

His wife is an intuitive who, like me, had instantly realized what was going on. Together she and I held a safe, strong container in which this sacred but messy surrender, this prayer to be of true service, could take place.

Deep seated guilt. Fear of lack. Secret doubt of oneself, and of the divine.

Who among us wouldn’t relate to at least one of those core bugbears? Me, I’ve danced intimately with all three, at one time or another. Really, I’d say they’re archetypal; they more or less sum up the modern human condition, here on planet earth.

Is it possible that more than one of my friend’s prayers were answered that night? Not only were his own personal burdens lifted, but my gut says maybe the energetic ripples of that release pulsed throughout the entire human collective. Maybe we as a species are one small step closer to remembering ourselves in Grace, thanks to that divinely orchestrated vehicular smackdown.

Now and then when the stars align, Catch-22 takes a holiday, or so it seems. One’s own higher wisdom instead takes matters into its own beautiful hands; It responds to sincere prayer, by arranging a perfect circumstance for surrender and release. (Apparently all three of our higher divine selves got together and arranged this one.)

Personally I wouldn’t have missed it.

By the way: 24 hours later, his insurance company settled the full claim, which paid for a new car.

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