They tell us again and again, be here now. They’re not wrong.
And the beauty, it’s right here right now. We have to stop and notice.
Because it is in the moment that there is Peace… and then we only slowly widen that… so there is Peace in this moment and then we push it into the next. Now we have a past and a present. The more we do it, the sooner there becomes a future as well.
Present Beauty. Present Peace.
I don’t think I knew until I really looked at this photo that there was a place that was so deeply familiar to me… and my family… But when I saw that picture, my heart skipped a beat and then expanded…
It was even sweeter to be looking at it next to my grandson and realizing that we could promise one another to take a walk on this path…
So man people in my life are gone, but there are those coming along… and there’s still time to make the path sacred to them as well…
Find your Peace path, and walk it… walk it together with your family… it’s stuff that brings a family together…
I love this picture. I tried several times to write a very different musing. Although this was musing was my first response to the photo… how could you NOT want to crawl in there with a book — well except for bugs and critters — but it wasn’t the only response i had.
I kept thinking about how my roots are planted in so many different places: The Central Susquehanna Valley to be certain, but also New York City, Oakland, and certainly Sweden. I have tiny tendrils sunk into the ground in Boston and Paris as well. Nothing big, and a nothing sustaining… but certainly tethers.
I’ve loved living wherever I’ve lived. I’ve made friends there. I’ve eaten good food and seen great sights. Some of those friends are gone. Some of those places I haven’t seen for 30 years. But… they bind my heart in lovely ways!
I think of myself as a pretty sturdy tree. But my roots are deep and comfortable in many different kinds of soils in many parts of the country. And I like that.
It causes me to think things through. I like that. It also causes me to realize how different we are here, there, and everywhere. Peace is an amalgam.
Peace is an amalgam we need. Peace to you.
A misty day on a river is one of my favorite things. Whether it’s the mist dancers of late Winter or the heavier fogs of late Summer, I love to see it. And ooh, in the summer I love to swim in it… I find it incredibly beautiful.
The mist obscures things, it’s true. And we have to be patient, waiting for the real picture to be revealed.
And people use the mist to cover up their actions. And somehow we have to work through that.
It all takes patience. Peace takes patience. Justice takes patience. I guess the patience is the growing up part of learning to see what’s really there. And in the meantime? Enjoy the beauty.
March is quite a month. Here in California, the questions are will it be sunny and beautiful or will it rain… pour, pour, pour. Back home the questions are should I wear shorts or where did I put that snow shovel? And not will there be wind, but how bad will it be?
And still we persevere… because all of March is beautiful. Wild has a beauty all its own.
Enjoy it… The drama lessens once April comes alive. Here’s to the wild Peace Of March…
What is it you’re meant to do? What kind of Peace are you best equipped to enact?
Or maybe a smaller question, what can you/do you contribute to the Great Peace Experiment… What thing that you are perfectly equipped to contribute, because of your particular skills and personality?
Who are the other people you know and love or even don’t know but admire who are contributing to Peace in ways that make sense, with whom you can contribute more greatly to Peace.
Suss is a simple case. He’s a water dog. He’s bred to scent survivors in cold ocean shipwrecks. Now he’s being trained to find sewer leaks that are polluting the River.
It’s a important job, one for which he is uniquely qualified. We’re all uniquely qualified to contribute to Peace. We just have to claim our place.
My friends, in a topsey-turvey worrld, let’s Peace.
When I googled whirlpool, down at the end of the page, there was actually something about water. Up till then this beautiful, sometimes frightening, natural phenomenon, was ignored in favor of the company.
But whirlpools are caused by the meeting of two currents. They are all beautiful. Some are dangerous.
Right now we live in a political whirlpool. America is certainly part of it, or has its own. But life is swirling all over the world. Fragile people are going to be hurt. and we are all going to be discouraged. Nevertheless we must learn to navigate the waters well enough that we don’t get sucked in. We must be the balm on the waters.
Our world is in flux… We can be part of what makes things better.
If we’re going to think of ourselves as Peacemakers, that’s what we have to do.
It’s interesting. For those of us who have lived many places, we know the differences, however slight between who we are/were and how we lived in all those places.
I’ve always been a person of the in-between places. I love to travel and I have dear friends all over the world. I am the luckiest!
I wonder if the geese remember, either all the time, or when they arrive, the sweet delicacies of being here or there. Or are they simply present, delighting in being. Both could be very sweet…
What is Peace for those of us who migrate? Where are we most truly ourselves? Something lovely to ponder as I fly — from one place I call home to another.
In the woods, vines use trees to grow on. In that process, their lives become entwined.
Now it’s true there are vines that strangle their trees. And there are probably some trees that throw off their vines… Here Ann enters into dangerous metaphor territory, because frankly she doesn’t know…
But when I look at this tree, I see coexistence. And it’s filled with gorgeous messy entanglement. Life is about figuring out how we live together.
We need to consider how we braid ourselves together, like unto unlike. We need to figure out how to coexist. Therein lies Peace. Woven together, we have to figure out what’s good for everyone.
This is the beautiful River Valley in which I live. Yesterday the March skies and weather filled this basin with wild and conflicting moments. One moment it was sunny and still, with white fluffy clouds; the next a huge grey front lowered in and plunged us into early dusk and a white out squall.
You try and make sense of it and then you remember. It’s March. This is what March does.
Today it’s frigid; tomorrow it may be balmy. All your coats need to be lined up and ready.
This is not cause for complaint; this is cause for celebration. It’s March. Hooray! Make Peace with its dramatic and capricious beauty. (Really is there any other month in which capricious is so frequently used?)
