A Month of Peace - A 2016 Journal for Now

​May 30, 2016: I awoke with a great sadness that followed me about the house like the mist I felt the night before; gentle yet present in a way that commanded my attention.
The rain made everything stop. Not a creature was stirring. That was at 6 am on Memorial Day, and yet, three and half hours later, not one car had passed the house; not one noise came from outdoors save the birds feasting at the newly installed feeders. There was a snail on the stoop; the first one; a reminder to move slowly and carefully today. The fuzzy black spider that had taken up residence between my kitchen door and the storm door was nowhere in sight.
I always remember the day I wished my father a “happy” Memorial Day; happy because it was a day off from work for me. He was quick to remind me that there was nothing happy about this day; people died so I could be free. It’s been a huge burden to carry ever since. So, now, I wish no one a happy Memorial Day, even if it is a day off for them.
I begin this journal of finding peace 2 days before the start of the month because we all need a head start; there is always something leading up to a choice to be intentional. Today is that day for me. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. We shall see tomorrow.
May 31, 2016: There is some peace in de-cluttering today; closets that I walk by every day, oblivious to what’s inside; or maybe conscious of what’s inside and not wanting to face it all. When did it get so full of non-essential things that I can’t seem to throw out? What to do with all the dog paraphernalia that reminds me of my Harry, gone 5 months already. I hug the red coat I bought him when he’d lost all the weight and shivered in the cold, looking for some essence of him; wondering when or if peace ever comes when we lose something or someone we love?
Now if I could unburden my soul the same way I unburdened my closet. What would that look like? Handling each item; turning it over in my hands; wondering where it belongs today; if it belongs today, or does it go out the door: Paper? Plastic? Thrift shop? Garbage? To put it back seems like avoidance, waiting for another day to give it a closer inspection, and yet there is only so much unburdening one can do in a day; only so much we can bear to inspect. Some things must go back in the closet … for now.
 June 1, 2016 5:55 AM - Day One of the Month of Peace and I find myself thinking, “What was I thinking?” making a commitment to a month of writing about peace? It seems that the minute I make a commitment to something, it becomes an obligation; a responsibility to honor my word, which often is passionate and whole-hearted in the moment and then not so much shortly thereafter; the doubts arise; reasons why I might not be able to do it arise. What’s up with that? Where’s the peace in that?
I decide to let the day come to me; to let peace come to me and whisper what needs to be written later in the day. There’s peace in trusting that something will reveal itself. There’s peace in the early morning, in the smell of coffee awaiting my cup, in the birds waking up with song and especially in the morning air, which feels very much like my own skin. It is my favorite time of day when the morning air and I are the same temperature. I’ll let that be enough for now. More to come later.
“The More to Come Later”: Peace is wherever I am. I’m going to write it again. Peace is wherever I am. Working a part time gig to keep the ebb and flow of bill paying peaceful, I watch those around me in their unrest; their dis-ease as incredibly first-world “problems” arise in their lives.
I do not want to be them, even though I know I am them; everything we see in others that we disdain; that we judge, comes with the disclaimer that we disdain it and judge it because it is inherently human and lives in us as well. The impatience, the assumptions, the biases, each lives in us. I’ve been that person, an omission that comes with some shame and self-judgment.
Inner dialogue: How could I be like that? I’m not her. I’m evolved. I know better. Well, I could be like that. I am her. I’m only as evolved as I am in any given moment if I don’t stay present to what I value, and I don’t know better when I let the moment own me.
What I found was I could let her go (the her in me and the her standing before me); stay in peace; I could remember those feelings churning inside me without letting those feelings churn inside me. Yes, that is what it looks like to be in dis-ease; to judge, and yes, I’m capable of that, and no, it doesn’t serve me; it doesn’t own me or have any real estate in my life; certainly not for the first world problem of how soon will I get through this line and out the door. Certainly not for the bigger or smaller things either.
Peace comes at the price of letting go of our righteous indignation; our feeling of being “better than”. Peace comes with connection, realizing that we are all same whether we like it or not. It’s just what we choose to do with that information that’s the difference between dis-ease and peace.   
June 2, 2016 Day 2 of Peace: Okay, I’m really into this now and I promised someone that I would write about this topic, here on day 2 of a month of peace: my bathroom scale. Because she posted something that said, “You don’t need a scale to tell whether you’re allowed to like yourself today. You are. You belong here. No matter what you weigh, you deserve joy and happiness (Geneen Roth is cited as writing this quote).
It just happened to be the day that I got on the scale and, maybe my battery is dead, but my scale made up some digital alien numbers. I can’t even type them here. And I thought, okay, I guess I weigh THAT today and got off the scale.
To set the context for where peace comes with this moment, two years ago, I found myself weighing more than I’d ever weighed, all of me being 5’2-12” tall because I’ve literally shrunk an inch already. I got really depressed seeing photos and just didn’t feel good. Most of all, the food I was eating upset my stomach on a daily basis; eating was getting really challenging and as a front of the room facilitator, let me tell you that you don’t want to have stomach issues on a daily basis. You just don’t.
So, I went OCD on myself and followed a regime through my chiropractor that was a food elimination/re-entry plan. About two months and 25 pounds later (I kid you not), I thought I’d gotten my food intake to be only that which my body could handle: no inflammatory foods. I eliminated wheat, corn, oats, cow dairy, processed or any raw sugar, pork, regular ground beef, processed foods with ingredients I can’t pronounce and some vegetables, which in spite of their mystical healing properties still made my stomach churn.
I joined a group on Facebook for this particular protocol, in which the other members were so hyper-nuts about what they were doing, I couldn’t stand it anymore. My own OCD was enough, you know?
Nearly two years later, I’m still following fairly closely: healthy, happy, still holding my weight down, but I do get on the scale every day. (Back to the scale thing)
Seeing the weird, digital, alien numbers the other day was a relief. I can’t tell you what I weigh today and I don’t care. I just want to be healthy and happy and enjoy my life. That includes being present to what I can and can’t eat; just not a crazy loon about every pound. I’m not running out to buy another battery any day soon.
I’m still working on peace and yet I feel it coming.
June 3, 2016: Day 3 of Peace - From Megan Hollingsworth on the anniversary of my first marriage, ironically enough.
Permanent Change
I like to think my desires are simple and pure 
so when you asked what I want most, I said 'you' 
not knowing what that meant 
until you fashioned a wall between us and as you left the far side, 
busted a hole clean through and wide enough to shatter delusion. 
If you asked me again, 'What do you want most?' 
I would say, 'Nothing. I am everything and more.' 
Peace is all I've ever wished before you came along
and all I claim since you walked on.
June 4, 2016 Day 4 of Peace: Shooting a video for Voice of Evolution Radio’s web site brought me to Planting Fields Arboretum early in the morning. I was aware of particles as I drove to the arboretum; particle choices: choosing my clothes, my hair (straight or curly? Ironically, it was very humid and by the end of the shoot, I’d chosen both!) … most of all, choosing my words.
There was a script. There were words I’d spoken and written down, as opposed to writing down words and speaking them; a subtle, yet important, distinction; my words. I was committing to my words this morning; publically committing to my words. Hey, world, here I am and this is what I stand for.  Doing the radio program made it no less terrorizing. A GULP moment. A moment of gleeful terror. On camera.
Anthony and I were surrounded by singing birds and chipmunks crossing the parking lot as he set up his camera. It was a beautiful morning; somewhat reluctant, neither sunny nor rainy; hazy and humid; still.  I took out my “words” and put them down. I picked them up and put them down. I knew what I wanted to say.
“It’s not going to be one shot, is it?” I asked, knowing that I’d not been able to get through it without stopping.
“It’s better if we shoot sections.” Anthony replied. “Then I can use some close ups and B roll.”
Peace. I knew I could do that.
Cars, planes, and a park ranger who eventually came to ask if we had a permit. We didn’t. But the “words” were done so we caravanned to Bailey Arboretum, about 9 miles away, where a permit wasn’t required. Both Anthony and I realized that the ranger kept driving around, which ironically, made the shoot take longer because we had to stop and wait for it to be quiet again. The ranger approached us as we completed the last take. Synchronicity? I believe so.
We drove in peace to the new site and continued shooting the video that would play with the voice over.
No drama, just being in the moment.
The moment that felt most important to me was the moment that I looked at the camera and thought, “Just speak from your heart”. “What do you know?” “What do you want someone watching to know?”
I had to come to peace with some other questions: “Will someone see me and think who the hell is she?” “Why should I listen to this person?” “Geez, she’s old; not millennial or slick, just some woman talking about something called being a Reluctant Evolutionary.”
Where do we find these ways to sabotage our brilliance? And that’s what I talk about in the video; our brilliance. How crazy is that? I’m just one voice speaking from my heart. Will my seeds plants themselves, germinate and grow wildly? Who knows? What’s important is that I speak my words. You get to do the listening and choosing.
David Christopher, author of the Holy Universe, writes about seeds, “Many are called but few are chosen, yet the few that are chosen need the many that are called. For with too few seeds, the one seed may never take hold and species may then fade away … this is the paradox of creativity … what we see as the failure of thousands, false starts, dead ends, mistakes, are transformed into the exalting joy of all. And all that do not survive share in the majesty of the one that thrives.”
It stings if we aren’t the one that takes hold; our ego gets in the way and holds us to blame for somehow not being enough. What a terrible way to live our lives. Unattached to the outcome, we must plant ourselves; our only mission is to grow wildly as we were meant to grow. Everything else that happens is beyond our control. There is peace in that thought. I hope it brings you peace, too.
The video will be out any day now. I can't wait to share it with you. I've planted myself. That's all I can do.
June 5, 2016, Day 5 of Peace: Sitting on the couch last night after 8-1/2 hours working, there is a crash about 12” to my right. When I look, a huge Aqua Forte painting and its heavy, heavy frame has fallen off my wall, and taken out the potted plant, several framed photos, and a candlestick. On the floor to my right, is a pile of broken glass and dirt. Everything shattered. It’s too late to cry, “No!” and too late to stop anything from happening. It happened. It’s done.



One of the screw eyes worked itself out of the frame; one of the screw eyes that held the wire that held the frame on the wall. Maybe the passing trains over the years … who knows?
 
Damage to the painting deserves some grieving. No anger. Too late for anger. So, grieving and learning to love it as it is now; loving it any way. This happens slowly as I clean up the broken glass and dirt.
 
“Where are you hurt?” I ask.
 
“Here … and here.” It shows me.
 
“I see. Maybe I could fix that somehow.” I think, even though it’s likely to be apparent that there’s a scar; maybe it can’t be repaired. A beautiful Amsterdam scene, soft aqua forte tints by an artist I’ve found twice over the years and bought his work twice and will again.


It’s only then that I realize how close it came to my head, a mere 12”. Photos will attest to that. And yet, that didn’t happen. One thing did; another didn’t. Life goes on. There is peace in what I can control and what I can’t; peace and grieving and gratitude all at once. I like that I am able to separate them so they each get a moment of presence, as something shifts in my body as each is considered. Peace.
June 6, 2016, Day 5 of Peace:
Today, someone else’s words will me with peace.
The Peace of Wild Things
by Wendell Berry
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
June 7th-9th Days 7-9 in a month of peace: New rule I make up because I can, you see … if I get too far behind, I can create one entry for any overarching themes about peace. That thought alone brings peace to what could easily be a criticism about being consistent; keeping promises, etc.
And so let’s talk about what we create called our life. The last few days have been about being in choice. I created one day for myself in particular that had no part time job; only those things that fulfilled me: a new coaching client, a conversation with my friend David to complete a recording about passion, purpose and paying the bills that we started two weeks ago and our busy schedules prolonged until we could end the arc of conversation with some thoughts for the listeners; another conversation with filmmakers, Joel and Katy about their film, Time is Art, (oh so synchronous) waiting in Zoom while they got their newborn baby to sleep. What are the rules about all these things that keep us in an agitated state rather than peace? How did making choices create a peaceful, joyful day that felt like a gift from the Universe?
I’m a space holder; maybe I’m a time holder, as well. What does that mean? Being, holding is an active state. I’m not zoned out on the couch, except when I am. Holding is the state of being present and aware of all the energy around us. When I hold a space for my coaching client, I’m aware of the newness, the excitement, the possibility. I’m aware of the hunger in my client for change; for a vision of something potent and powerful to begin. That hungry meets my hunger to awaken, inspire and activate through deep, meaningful conversation. We are in synchronicity. We are in the flow. The space is alive, while all the while, I am aware of the birds singing, flying past my window; the dog is snoring and dreaming, her legs kicking as if she is running in an open field, or chasing the squirrel that frequents the bird feeders in the backyard.
When I talk to David, I’m holding space for completion and the possibility of what’s coming next and yet, I’m fully in the moment and the conversation, inspired, activated, laughing because we talk about being human and let being human have its moment of humor and compassion.
When I talk to these young filmmakers, I’m holding space for life itself to unfold. The baby is still awake even though it’s 7:30 pm and we’re all spent from a long day. Everyone does what is needed; everyone does it as if the web of life needs that moment; sometimes even the web of life has trouble getting to sleep and why not? What a day it had!
We talk and there’s something in space about not liking interviews, although I never interview. The conversation becomes so animated, so filled with energy, there’s a moment I say, “See. Not an interview; a conversation.” Before I become present once more and join my energy with theirs.
When we’re done, we’ve talked about everything from the film itself, to synchronicity, to UFOs appearing during the filming, permaculture, and the underlying system beneath the US system of government. We are probably all on the US no-fly list by now.
So as this arc comes to completion, holding space over these last few days, even though the part time job creeps back into the picture, is different. Even a conversation with someone at the part time job about synchronicity and the mystery of being highly sensitive and sentient about unseen dimensions completely changes my perception of this person. I hold space to be shifted and changed by others; to be open to the possibility that we are more alike than different.
This choice thing could catch on big time. What do you think?
June 10: Day 10 of a Month of Peace – A Friday. Usually a day of peace for the end of the week and the beginning of a weekend, except now that I’m freelancing, it means less than it once did. My peace and pleasure comes from having the day off during the week; the day that most people are in their offices; their cubicles; their conference rooms. I used to say that there was a secret world in which people could travel around during the day. I’m part of that secret world now and it’s delicious.
My work starts early. It’s 6:20 am and I’ve already been at my laptop for awhile; on my second cup of coffee. I work until I wander. Then I go outside and see how the vegetables have grown overnight; watch the birds at the feeders; make my prayers at the memory garden for my dog, Harry, who lives in my heart now. Then I go back inside and work some more: on this and on that; always something a bit different; never the same thing for very long. I’ve given myself permission to find my own rhythm in this thing called “work”. It works for me.
June 11: Day 11 of a Month of Peace – I sign up for a Summer of Peace, http://summerofpeace.net/program
It is the Shift Network, which I’ve unkindly referred to as the Walmart of Consciousness. I can’t open their emails without an immediate overwhelm of information. They’ve attracted some big time speakers, as only big time, Walmart organizations can. They have a wisdom council, as only big time Walmart organizations can. I’m curious about the summer of peace and not yet excited.
I have a ‘lesser than’ feeling right now; wondering if my work will ever catch fire; a wisdom council to offer me support and advice. I’m reminded of David Christopher’s The Holy Universe and his chapter on Seeds: the few need the many for the species to survive and not all flourish; not all survive. Yes, David, it stings to be a seed that does not flourish; one that fights for light and water, and yet, we’ve got to do what our heart leads us to do. It’s a paradox, or something else. 
It’s also feminine energy; feminine to include; very masculine to compete. How do I want to operate my passionate purpose? With feminine energy or masculine energy? Yes, a balance of both. I know what you’re saying, and yet, believing in the whole, I must opt for feminine energy. There is room for all of us even if some grow tall and others fight for light and water. I just hadn’t expected to be one of the ones fighting for light and water. There isn’t peace here yet. There is still a wanting for approval and acceptance; wanting the thing that goes viral and the whole world notices (in a good way, that is).
Much wrestling still to do here. Much peace wanted; needed to be enough; for my own life to be enough.
June 12: Day 12 of Peace in a Month of Peace: There is no peace today; certainly, not in my heart or in the world. The shooting in Orlando, captioned as a “terrorist” shooting has us all in grief, anger, and what I culturally call the activation.
The ““around terrorist are not mine. They belong to the unconscious media that brings us the news. I wonder why the quotes are there, like the air quotes I use when I wished my father a “happy” Memorial Day or wrote about first world “problems” on previous days of writing about peace. It implies “not really”, so a mass shooting is “not really” terrorism? Then what is?
Facebook is alive with media clips, quotes and talk of love, not hate. We hold candlelight vigils. I posted my own media clip of people standing in line to donate blood in Orlando, and a 2012 blog that I wrote after Sandy Hook, called “Among Us”; the words worth repeating. More quotes.
We are activated. Voices everywhere. But what really happens after a tragic activation like that, which took place in Orlando? The comments and the quotes slowly begin to be replaced with other photos; other quotes. We don’t forget; rather the event’s been culturally absorbed. It’s become part of us.
“Will there be singing in the dark times?”
“Yes, there will be singing … about the dark times.”
(Bertolt Brecht)
 
It has become part of our song; Humanity’s song about a time of darkness and separation; about a time of light and love; a paradox of the old story and the new, both sharing the same space. Once we’ve railed against it, most of us will accept it. I don’t make us wrong. How can we possibly take on one more thing in our lives? How can we possibly change this terrorism – no quotes – in the world?
We start close in (thank you, David Whyte) and do what we can. I trust that there is someone out there, who, activated by the murder of those in Orlando who were doing what we all do – taking a break from life – dancing it out, connecting, laughing, loving, were killed because someone saw them as separate from; separate than; someone who couldn’t make the connection of connection; I trust that there is someone out there who will take his or her activation into action and help us create a better world for our children; for us.
There is no peace today. Not in my heart or in the world. Today, my song is about the dark times.
June 13th: Day 13 of a Month of Peace: I attend Lucetta Zaytoun’s book reading here on Long Island, NY. Lucetta was recently on my radio program, talking about her book and the journey life’s taken her on. We meet for the first time after three years of connecting online.
As Lucetta reads excerpts from her book, the funny and the sad roads traveled, my friend Janine remarks how some people seem to have the easy life and some seem to have a life filled with chaos and tragedy. It resonates with me. I’ve always felt that I’ve lived my life dancing between the rain drops, sometimes through them; only a few times actually getting drenched by them. I would say that my life has been blessed and I’m full of gratitude every day.
And yet … you knew this “yet” was coming, right?
When I think back on my life, it’s had its tragedies and chaos; somehow, they were my tragedies and chaos and so, I don’t think of them as such; I just think of them as part of my life. So, I wonder, for others, is it that way, too?
Do we all accept our tragedies and chaos as ours? Do we all believe that we’ve danced between the raindrops or through the raindrops rather than gotten drenched by them? Is our resilience more powerful than we choose to admit? Is it, perhaps, our greatest human characteristic?
There is peace there, knowing that we survive horrific tragedy and can continue on holding it as part of us without turning against life itself; continuing to embrace life AND its tragedies; its chaos.
We are resilient, if nothing else and we are so much more.
June 17-19, 2016: Days 17-19 in a month of peace: “Invoking the Muse” in Rhode Island with my goddess sisters. Trusting the day will unfold as it is intended to. What a beautiful lesson in letting go and letting come what is supposed to come. At peace with every step. Reflecting back, how do I live my life this way? How do I walk into the world with trust that the day will be whatever it is meant to be?
There are other energies I work with on a daily basis that challenge my peace; the “doing” energies that hold behind them some kind of intention for outcome that I still see as “less than” the larger and greater good work in the world. Are they less important? Are mine more important? They are all of value, on the human plane and the spiritual plane. The question becomes where do I choose to put my energy? Can I continue to live in both worlds and still be true to myself and at peace, letting go to let come, or striving for a goal that has been manufactured for me by the people who see “success” and “power” and “materialism” as an outcome?
The time is coming when my focus must be on what feels most important to me on a spiritual level. Let the world of commerce continue; blessing the tender we’ve chosen to help us all find shelter and food; comfort and aesthetics. Blessing the tender, with the intention that as a system, it too wants to be used for good; that only the people who (ab)use it have turned it into power and hoarded it.
Not what I intended for this writing and letting go to let come, this is what’s come today.
June 20-21, 2016: Days 20 & 21 in a month of peace: The summer solstice radiated peace all around me; a day and night in which I walked quietly in my world, even if the world did not walk quietly around me. Viewing a video of Broadway stars singing for Orlando, Burt Bacharach’s What the World Needs Now, tears falling, at how living in our passion manifests a way to be conscious and active in the pursuit of compassion and sustainability.
We just need to find our way to our passion.  How will my voice, my heart, my hands, my body create something that shows what I stand for, who I am, how I see the world? A person doesn’t need to be an artist to do that and of course, we are all artists; creating from self.
Finding our passionate purpose is a personal thing. I believe we are each created to fill a place in the world that requires our unique attention, whether it’s the creative world, the financial world, the business world, agricultural, inventive, or environmental. We are all here to serve something with love.
What the world needs now is you. In your passionate purpose. In love. In peace.
June 22-26: Days 22 through 26 in a month of peace: Peace isn’t easy. Peace isn’t easy if you look for it outside yourself. Hell, peace isn’t easy at all. Here’s what I know today:

• I am not responsible for the actions or reactions of others, even if my own DNA contributed to moment
• However much I want to be at peace, there are just times when I want to punch some people in the face. I’m listening to CNN “State of the Union” as some female (all the more astonishing to me that she could support a self-proclaimed misogynist) Republican says that Pres. Obama unfairly “plays the race card” with Donald Trump. All I can think is “unfairly plays the race card? Are you kidding me? Trump is a MFAH who sees anyone who is NOT like him as lesser than. All those who support him will sing a different tune when THEY become the object of Trump’s bigotry. No one is safe unless Donald is and once Donald is safe, no one is. You know? We are traveling on treacherous ground these days and peace from without seems nearly impossible. We’ve given him a stage, a platform and he will sing as long as we let him stand there.
• Race is not a card to be played. Bigotry is systemic and using it as a tool to reprimand the voice of President Obama, who we must remind ourselves is actually Black, is bigotry in action.
• However much I want to be at peace, we are 84 years away from unbreathable air, according to Inhabit.com. 84 years. That’s one person’s lifetime. It may happen in your lifetime, if you’re young enough; it may happen in your children’s lifetime, if they’re young enough, and if not, your grandchildren just got a death sentence. Peace? No. How can we buy another jet ski (not me because I’m just about paying my bills); how can we buy another jet ski and know that we’ve got 84 years of breathable air – not clean air – simply breathable – air that doesn’t kill us the minute we inhale? Yeah, let’s get that new jet ski. Fuck the environment as long as I’m having a good time. (Punching urge comes up strong here, too)

Yes, there’s a hard edge to me today. So, if not peace from without, what then? Peace from within? Not any easier to obtain unless we separate from the world and live in a bubble; cut off internet and television, cell phones and more; grow our own food, etc. That feels like sticking my head in the sand. I get to live my peaceful life, yes, and I do so by separating instead of connecting.
It’s a “both and” here. Do those things if you are led to do them AND be part of the world we live in as a conscious and sustainable contributor.
None of this gives me peace today and I have to remind myself that being at peace wasn’t the intended outcome. The intended outcome was to write about peace and see what happens. See what happens when I write about peace?
June 29th, 2016: Day 29 of Peace: I awake to a Facebook alert telling me that someone I’m friends with is OKAY. Grateful and asking why, where, what’s happened? Then I read about Istanbul’s airport bombing.
I’m reminded of an event nearly 4 years ago when the people of Istanbul took to the streets to protest; to stand in their solidarity for their rights and freedom. I remember going on the air with one of my friends and colleagues in Istanbul a good 24 hours in advance of any major news program, reporting from a personal perspective on what was happening there. Grateful for the connection, the willingness to talk about the government and the purpose I feel in doing so.
 I’m devastated for Istanbul and all the innocent people who lost their lives. The senseless terror that we all live with on a daily basis even if most of us don’t think about it on a daily basis is always there.
It’s so big; so heavy. I wonder how my little part can make a difference and I know that my little part must happen anyway. We all have the thing “we cannot not do” and the radio program, being a voice is mine.
Today, my heart is heavy, filled with friends and colleagues in Istanbul and all those I don’t know and will never know. As I work to find peace in a world that changes every second of every day, I dream of peace for the world.
June 30, 2016: The last day of June and the final day of writing about peace.
Coming to terms with peace.
These last few days are sticking to me, like clothing on a hot, humid day. I want to peel them away and yet, they refuse; politely, respectfully, they refuse to be discarded.
I had a thought today. What if we don’t make it? What if we have already written the chapter that ends with the end of Humanity – or at least, the end of Humanity as we know it? What if we are singing the songs of love, compassion, connection and sustainability too late in the game to turn us around? Too little, too late. What if, we, who have only been here a second or two in the history of the Universe, have run our course? What if we are a failed experiment? We had a chance and blew it.
As Jeff, John and I rehearse for the first radio drama (funny, I started to type “dream”) on Voice of Evolution Radio, I am reminded of something the Keeper of Soul’s purpose asks the interviewer – have you ever planted a garden? The interviewer says yes and the Keeper goes on to explain that sometimes something comes up in the garden and you let it grow because you’re not sure what it is … so, when do you decide? When do you let it grow? I know in my own garden, it’s when I see buds; when I see it’s going to flower and become all that’s possible. Sometimes, I pull it too soon and realize that I didn’t give it enough time. If only I waited a bit. Other times, I wish I’d pulled it sooner.
Which one are we? Will we be pulled too soon so others can grow and blossom, or is there a blossom just about to bud and a little more time will show that it was worth the wait?
I’m going to end this month of peace with my deepest favorite poem by Rilke. Oh, so difficult to choose, and yet this one came to me as I was in my back yard, reading a book of Rilke poems and yes, it felt like it was written to me; for me; about me.
Peace to all.
“Dear darkening ground,
you’ve endured so patiently the walls we’ve built,
perhaps you’ll give the cities one more hour
and grant the churches and cloisters two,
And those that labor—maybe you’ll let their work
grip them another five hours, or seven
before you become forest again, and
widening wilderness
in that hour of inconceivable terror
when you take back your name
from all things.
Just give me a little more time!
I want to love the things
as no one has thought to love them,
until they’re real and ripe and worthy of you.
I want only seven days, seven
on which no one has ever written himself –
seven pages of solitude.
There will be a book that includes these pages,
and she who takes it in her hands
will sit staring at it a long time,
until she feels that she is being held
and you are writing.”
-Rainer Maria Rilke