Good morning, everyone ~
It’s 4:30a.m. as I start this week’s mass email. Except for the ticking of the clock, the hum of my computer, and the tapping sounds of my fingers on the keyboard, all is quiet in this house. Crickets are churring in the darkness outside. If I listen intentionally, I can hear the faint sounds of traffic on the Interstate highway a few miles away. Intellectually, I know that somewhere in the world, guns are being fired on the domestic as well as international level. Sirens are screeching in pursuit of criminals or emergency assistance. Alarms are ringing. People are crying or screaming. My patch of peace seems very small when I think of all those things taking place; yet, no matter how small the patch, peace does exist.
Even in the cocoon of my peace patch, not all is without challenge. My pain level is tolerable at the moment. That status could change at any moment. My mind is content; yet, I am aware of how quickly/easily contentment can evaporate. I realize (again) that I myself must be the point-of-balance between the world’s extremes … that I must be the patch of peace.
How easy it is to lose sight of self as the peace patch. Our five senses are continuously bombarded with distraction. We get lost within the swirl of old feelings/new desires. Peace seems elusive or impossible. We look Out There for it. We expect it to be miraculously, spontaneously presented; lasting forever. We forget how to be a peace patch.
Perhaps we forget because we are too busy. Maybe, because we depend on someone else to recognize/honor that peace that is us. Validation must come from someone other than that reflection of self in the mirror, eh?
To recognize self as a patch of peace even while the body hurts, the mind worries, and the spirit mourns is no easy task. Our automatic reaction/survival instincts sometimes get in the way of our ability to be at peace with self/others. Sometimes a “peace keeping mission” looks/sounds more like war. Sometimes the pursuit of peace results in greater chaos, lethal harm, irreparable injury. The peacekeeper who looks back at me from the mirror is also the one who sounds bossy amidst a crisis and unforgiving in the face of injustice.
Perhaps the peace patch that I am looks less like Peace and more like a crazy-quilt — bits-n-pieces, scraps, a little of all that I have ever been/felt/expressed. I just need to remember to see both the pieces and the whole. I need to remind myself that I can remember each piece of my Past and honor the whole Peace-of-Life too. Patches of grey may not be appealing unto themselves, but the contrast they provide makes the hues of color more vibrant and softens what might be too bright for the eyes to behold.
To be a patch of peace in this world, I need all my pieces patched together.
Look in the mirror. See the whole of you. All those bits-of-scraps of your past that have come together as a whole, as a work of art — the honorable work of a lifetime.
Will that bring world peace? No. Will we carry a sense of inner peace into the next moment that unfolds? Maybe; not highly likely. Can we revisit the mirror/regain that perspective? Yes — a thousand-thousand times a day if needed. The more often we remember, the stronger we become and the more peace exists in the world … right there beside the chaos, the bossy manner, the tough approach, the pain and suffering.
Soon, dawn will hush the chorus of crickets and simultaneously trigger the birds into singing. Shortly after that, the neighborhood will start humming with activity and the traffic sounds will increase. Planes taking off and landing will add their cacophony to the day. Sounds of a household fully awake and ready for routine will drown out the soft ticking of the clock on my shelf, the hum of machines. Sights/sounds of chaos, juxtaposed against invisible patches of peace. Kind of crazy, eh? Crazy like a quilt!
Stay safe. Stay the course — we each have one Life to live and only one Life Path to walk. Stay aware of all the bits-n-pieces that form that Life and forge that Life Path. We’re all (as the saying goes) just walking each other home.
Gentle hugs/much love,
Marian