The Right Side of Peace

The picture said too much. Fear. Dissatisfaction.

The words said more. No one who’s different. Not in my backyard.

We’re better than this. I don’t really know that I’ve got much more to say than that. We’re better than this and there are ways to fix some of the problems that people other than us encounter, if we weren’t so damned afraid… of what, we’re not sure.

But I’m pretty sure the “people no one wants” are the symptom; not the problem. Our closed hearts are also part of the problem…

We don’t want to be the people in that picture. We want to be Peace. Let’s do the work. It’s a beautiful day out there under the Berry Moon, really, let’s do the work.

Community Peace in the Berry Moon

Overcast or not it was a lovely June day in the Berry Moon. Perfect for fêting two wonderful people who had done so much for the community.

Doug and Margie Sturm were extraordinary, but they were also very ordinary folk. They were both teachers, she taught countless high school kids to love literature; he taught religion and poli sci… and hurrah for that combo! Depression kids, they knew the value of hard work and had the knack of finding ways to get things done.

They believed strongly in the value of community, starting an organization entitled Community Alliance for Respect and Equality. They were warm and witty and engaging and people participated, sometimes just to hang out with them… and why not?

It was so fitting that the day in their honor was a day for soliciting volunteers fueled by fun music. The community gathered and a good time was had by all…

Peace is Possible… but you have to step up to do the work. Doug and Margie stood up and stepped up to the task. They loved broadly and boldly. And oh, they had great kids and left a trail of disciples behind them. Let us give thanks… and go and do likewise. Peace. Your community needs you!

Patchwork Souls for Peace

Some of us, and I think it’s more of a what is thing than a good or bad thing, have what I think of as patchwork souls. We have walked many paths, sat in many kitchens drinking tea or beer or whatever the local brew is, talked in many languages, whether they were of a nation or a clan…

And there is for us, particularly as we begin to understand it, a great joy.

However, it also means that there are paths and kitchens and languages that are lost or abandoned. And then there are pockets of remembered joy, sealed perhaps with some scar tissue of grief. Because there are some places, for so many reasons, to which you can never return.

I do think it helps us, as we come to the Peace-making process, to understand how many different hearts with their own languages of Love need to be engaged and how much space needs to be made for different approaches… May we be Peace and Possibility.

Peace, Sabbath, Berry Moon

Is a Peace volcano a metaphor completely in conflict with itself? But if all those languages, all those Peace words have gone underground, don’t they need to find a way to surface?

What would that mean?

All of which is a lot of thought for a sweet early summer Sabbath morning in the Berry Moon. Mother Earth is at her beautiful, abundant best this morning.

This is a day packed full of community and beauty. It’s already started with my morning walk. Both Sarajane and I were moving slowly, so we wound up sitting on some neighbor’s chairs down by the river. There were ducks and eagles and herons and fish… and a beautiful deer at the water’s edge across the river. And silence. there was a lot of silence. Ah….

And today there is a Good Neighbor gathering in a local park in celebration of two wonderful community leaders. This is the first ever celebration as Doug and Margie Sturm died last year. There will be food and music and lots of laughter.

What could be sweeter?

and as for the volcano… i don’t think the world will go on as it has… and maybe reclaiming language and difference can oddly be a thing which draws us together. We’ll keep thinking about Peace, shall we? and the notion however silly or mystical that there’s a huge bunch of molten Peace at the center of the Earth? Peace be with you on this sweet Sabbath morning. Enjoy your day…

Lost Words of Peace

The grief and hunger for a lost language are so much bigger than I thought when I first began to explore this. (and, man, reading stuff like this makes me wish that I’d had a much better adviser in college.) I feel as if I’ve stumbled into something much bigger and truer than I suspected… something has profound implications for Peace and something that helps me understand how much more complex Peace is even when it’s also simple.

The article I read by Joshua Fishman “What Do You Lose When You Lose Your Language?” takes an anthropological view. Now I wonder about the psycho-spiritual views.

I was a language major in college. I majored in language because I learned languages easy, not because I was interested in literature. (Not that I’m sorry I read (past tense) well! There’s so much more reading I should do!) But anthro or religion and linguistics might have been a much better fit. If only they taught those things where I was — or I’d have known they existed!

We’ve all read about “civilizing” invaders who eradicate language and custom in the native born. Most of us live in a country where we’ve seen it. It’s happening today all over the world. And the results are hugely disabling. I’m not talking about language that evolves, although things are lost for what’s gained in them as well, I’m talking about the erasure of Native languages by conquerors.

So we come back to hard questions… What is it in humans that creates such fear that we feel a need to stamp out another’s world view completely, to eradicate culture? We’re certainly seeing that in some of the political campaigning. And then how do we create Peace out of all those forsaken Peace words? How do we help people find them again and help ourselves come closer to Peace… I wish I knew. But I suspect there are many seeds to Peace in that which has been lost — especially violently… What are the possibilities? What is the work? Where is that Peace?

Lost Words of Love and Peace

I’d write about the Berry Moon, but she’s on vacation. left us with the gloom and headed off somewhere beautiful. so it is with celestial bodies…

And I’m somewhat captivated by the notion of these lost languages… or lost threads…

Where do the words go? Where does the laughter from shared jokes find an outlet? Are we forever a bit expatriated without that language of Love?

I’m sure some PhD has written on this topic. But it’s a layer of missing people i hadn’t thought about before…

And then i started to think… what about tribes whose languages are lost. How are they ever who they were born to be… does that change from generation to generation or is there always a piece of their soul missing?

Civilization and power over… stealing people’s souls for years. Oh, Peace we need you, we must make you… Laughter and personhood is hidden in you. Peace, you are there to be reclaimed…

Language of Love and Peace

Every family has their own language of Love. At the Evans household, one of the threads in Love’s language was fabric. weird, eh?

But Mom started art school in fashion design. Dad was a color chemist in a carpet factory. We loved fabric. The house was filled with beautiful color. Mom sewed. (Deb and I were less capable! and disciplined… although i have ideas, I have usually fairly haphazard executions!)

But oh, we’re admirers of a well-cut anything. Or a beautiful pattern. Or a fabric that falls just so.

So when I saw those beautiful dresses, so well suited to those beautiful young women, all I could think was where are they? So often if I had a wedding in Bloomsburg, I went home to Deb’s house. This must be the first wedding I’ve had since there was no Deb’s house.

And we would have sat and I could have told all my fabric stories and then shown her pics later. But that was yesterday. And here I am, fluent in a language that is now more or less extinct. It’s sort of a weird thing… It’s a scramble to figure out Peace when no one speaks your language of Love. Adaptation… ah, it’s a slow segue… and Peace is sometimes a dance with memories.

More Peace in the Full Berry Moon?

Oh, it’s an amazing time of year. Or rather it’s the start to an amazing time of year.

So much fresh food at the peak of freshness and nutrition.

It’s a wonderful balance of good for you and just plain good.

And it’s the kind of bounty you can over indulge with few side effects!

I remember sitting at dinner at my Swedish Mama’s house with my parents. Mama came out with a big, big bowl of strawberries and an equally gigantic one of whipped cream.

Indulgence in Summer! Indulgence in Bounty! and sharing it out among the friends. There is no greater delight. Sweet Peace in the Berry Moon to you, my dears!

Peace is the Berry Moon and an Open Heart

The Berry Moon is about being ripe and luscious. Fully yourself, decadently, decidedly you.

Welcome.

The open heart is about appreciating not only your own charms but those of the others whatever charms they are.

And if others don’t love your charms, and you’re convinced, because you are also wildly self-reflective, that your charms are you and you’re not trying to be someone else, but then, even then, you’re searching! and if other folks are damning —

Then you don’t need those other people.

Because that way lies insanity and self-hatred. Peace lies in your lusciousness, you ripe and juicy berry, you. Love the Berry Moon. Love yourself. Love Peace.

The Fullness of Peace

I’ve been exhausted. I was chalking it up to how incredibly busy I was and not really paying a lot of attention to what I was very busy doing — mostly because i was just so busy doing what needed to be done next.

This past month, I have been more deeply… more immediately… involved in people’s lives than normal, working to be present to people at the place where life begins and the place where it ends and some of the magnificent places in between. When it comes in a wave as it has recently, it’s demanding. When you’re needed, you show up. I lean on the Lady, others lead on the Lord, others just the great gift of Life. But you lean, because you’re never enough alone. (and yes, i lean on my community.)

And while it is tiring to be that present to people’s lives, it’s the most exhilarating thing in the world.

As a priestess, I think a lot about the prophetic claims of the job: the need to speak about the many ways life is denied by the institutions to those cast as outsiders and to the most vulnerable. It is a privilege.

But what brought me to this whole priestessing thing was ritual. I love the celebrations. I love being asked to attend at moments of great importance and to lend the reminder that Love and Life are what matters. I love the time spent talking to the people involved, conceiving what will respond to their needs, crafting the vessel and the words and performing the ritual.

I enjoy the weaving together of community. I am pleased when I can help their Joy emerge and grateful beyond belief when I can give voice to their sadness and sometimes comfort and Peace in the midst of their loss.

It is also wonderful when these periods end and you can sink into your favorite chair, or pool or a meal with some friends. Or as I got to do last night, walking the labyrinth and a ritual celebrating the Full Berry Moon… Part of this work is not just the leaning, it’s the privilege and the demand of pouring out of self. I am grateful. and today? I’m tired.

Luckily, the Joy and the Peace will slowly, slowly fill me back to the rim with Life and Love. I just need to give them a chance. And until there’s a little more of me, I’ll quietly give thanks. And as the very wise Jack Kornfield said, “After the ecstasy, the laundry.” or as Buddha’s mother said, “chop wood, carry water.” The first of many loads is churning in the washing machine and I’ve got a day full of little chores to make my little paradise lovely again. A little peace and quiet to recharge the batteries. Peace be with us all…

Sacred Village

Building a World of Peace, Village by Sacred Village.

The Priestess Is In