Peace of Mind… (blog)

A friend of mine took this picture earlier in the summer on a day when we were at one of the reservoirs near Nevada County.  I was not aware that she had taken the picture until she sent it to me. And, when I received it, I felt as if the picture captured the very essence of me.

For many years, whenever I saw a photograph of myself, I immediately looked at what I didn’t like about it. And, if there was anybody looking at it with me, I would  share those judgments with the other person. Usually, the other person would try and make me feel better by saying something nice, but since I didn’t feel it, I couldn’t receive it.

One of the ways I learned to appreciate my looks both in photographs and in life was by writing things I liked about my appearance on sticky notes, and putting the notes on the bathroom mirror. And, each morning, I would say out loud “Today, I like my (eyes), they’re a beautiful hazel color.”, doing this exercise for every sticky note I had.

What was neat about doing that exercise was that it gave me a different perspective from the judgemental, self-deprecating one I had adopted somewhere along the way. Over time, I found that I began to notice things in photographs that I genuinely liked about my features. For this Peace Walker, coming into a place of self appreciation and love brought my insides into a place of Peace about how I look. And, you know, I still begin looking at photographs with an appreciative, rather than a critical eye.

What in your life needs a shift in perspective? What would it be to let go of dislike and notice what you like about it? Is there a structure you can use (like the sticky notes) to help shift your perspective? And, what do you think is possible when you look at something in a different way?

Many years ago, I walked into a luxury bedding store, and I immediately began to cry. The air was filled with a scent that reminded me of my maternal grandmother, who had passed away years earlier. I felt for a moment as if I had been transported to the deck at her house and she was there with me.

In my youth, one of my favorite times of the year was during the holiday season. I loved the rich scent of the greens that people put in their homes, the aroma of clove and cinnamon in the kitchen, and even the heady frankincense used in the holiday services I attended.

Today, my father and I went to several different places that I don’t normally experience. I was aware of the different aromas in the restaurants we went to, the smell of burnt earth mixed with pine coming from the area close to town where a fire happened yesterday, and the faint scent of coffee as we walked in the door this evening.

I have always been sensitive to smells, and one of the ways that I help slow myself down is by using essential oils. I find a sense of Peace when I close my eyes, breathe deeply and to allow the scent to carry me.

As you think about your experience, what scents do you love? Is the one in particular that brings you Peace? How can you bring that scent into your space now? Is there someone you’d like to share the scent and how you feel about it with?

Today, my Dad got here. My heart filled with joy as I watched him maneuver his rental car into the driveway. Then, tonight at dinner, we figured out that we haven’t actually seen each other in well over a year. As we sat visiting, I was filled with gratitude that both of my parents are still alive, and that I am still able to visit with each of them.

This gratitude sits along side the knowledge that many of the people I know have already lost one or both of their parents, and that still several others are assisting their elderly, and in some cases, failing parents with their daily tasks.

I want to take a moment to acknowledge people who are caregivers. In a time where we are busier than ever, it is especially difficult to be called on to become a caregiver. Yet, as our population ages, this is happening more and more. The grace with which some of my friends are stepping into the position of caregiver to their parents moves me. I am humbled by the beautiful ways they are being in community with their families and their parents.

While I haven’t been called upon to assist my parents, I hope that if and when I am, I will be able to say yes without hesitation, and that I will do it with the compassion I have seen in the people who have done it before me.

 

 

A friend of mine loaned me a vehicle today, and I was able to run several errands with Chandler as my co-pilot. We stopped at one point for a short walk (I’m allowed to go 1/2 mile a day), and both of us loved it. After the walk, we sat quietly sipping a cup of coffee and watching folks as they walked by.

In the months since my injury, I have had some very meaningful conversations with people who have driven me to various appointments, etc. Today, however, was different. Having my own transportation made it so that I didn’t have to reach out for help. It made me more autonomous as well.

What is interesting to me is that I felt less present to people and things around me as I drove myself here and there taking care of things.

Is there something in your life that disconnects you from the world around you? Are you aware of the disconnect? What can you do differently so as to not lose the connection in the first place?

 

Music is the universal language of mankind.

– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

For as long as I can remember, music has been a part of my life. My parents both love music, as do all of my sisters and I. My paternal grandmother taught some of us how to play the piano, and at some point or another, all of my sisters and I have sung in choir. I have tried my hand at several instruments, including piano, snare drum and guitar, mastering none, but enjoying them all.

For this Peace Walker, there is something truly magical about music. When I listen to certain instruments, it is as if I can feel the notes as they are being played. I am particularly fond of the cello. The rich tones that emanate from it fill my heart with Peace, and soothe my soul.

One of the things I do as part of my regular practice is to spend a few minutes chanting. Chanting is both calming and meditative for me. I first learned about chanting from my choir director at church years and years ago, and I have come to love many different types, in many different languages.

When I give myself the gift of music, I feel connected to the creative energy of people from all different cultures, backgrounds, countries, etc. I can close my eyes, and fall into the rhythm of the piece I’m hearing or singing, and for a moment, lose myself in it. And, if I ask, every person I know can think of a song that they absolutely love for one reason or another.

Can you think of a song or an instrument that when you hear it, brings you Peace? When was the last time you heard it? What is it that you feel when you hear it?

Along the Walk, I also sing, for Peace. Join me?

Today, I spent the day assisting a friend of mine who makes herbal lotions, salves, cough/cold remedies, tinctures, etc. I had asked if there was any way I could help her, and she asked if I would help her prepare some of the dried plants she either grows or wild crafts herself for use in her products. The process is called garbling. Simply put, in herbal medicine, it is the act of separating the usable parts of an herb or plant from the non useable parts. (Quick plug for my friend’s business – if you’re on Facebook, look for Olde Souls: Remedy, Energy, Synergy, Trinity, or email me for her contact information.)

The cool part of it for me was that my friend also taught me about the various uses for the plants as we garbled, most of which I was unaware of. I came away from the day knowing way more about milk weed thistle, mullen, mulberry and one other (I can’t remember the name of) than I knew when I got there this morning.

Another thing that was really nice was to work with living things that will be used to create organic healing products. It felt great to feel different plants in my hands, and to notice the vastly different qualities of each one as we worked with them.

And, as the day went by, I felt Peaceful. I truly enjoyed the time spent learning from my friend as well as being able to help her a little. I came away with a deeper appreciation for the earth and what can come from it with attention and care. And, I am grateful that I followed my urge to offer to help.

Who can you offer help to today? You might be amazed at what you get in return…

This little Peace rock was a gift from a friend of mine – a little token of Peace to carry with me wherever I go, she said. What I love about this gift is, that my friend took time out of her day to create something that she knew would be very special to me. And, on a deeper level, I felt seen and heard by my friend. She knows that I am passionate about Peace, and when I carry this rock, I will carry a piece of her heart with me.

I am reminded of a day early in the Walk when one of the people I met along the road gave me a feather that he had found. I carried that feather all afternoon, and early in the evening, I stopped for coffee with the feather prominently displayed. A woman at the coffee shop noticed my Walk for Peace shirt, and we struck up a conversation. She admired the feather, and said it was one of the loveliest she’d seen. I took the feather and invited her to have it. At first, she said she couldn’t – that it was mine. I explained how I came to have it, and told her that it would be my pleasure for her to have it. She accepted it graciously. A few moments later, when the woman went to get some coffee, her daughter told me that her mom had a large feather collection, and that the one I had given her would be a great addition. I could not have known that a simple feather would mean so much in the life of someone I’d never met, but I felt Peaceful knowing that it would be in her possession.

What my friend doesn’t know about the little Peace token she painted for me is that each night before I go to sleep, I hold it for a few seconds, and I ask for Peace for me, my loved ones, my community, and the world. It is a practice that started because of one person’s kindness, and the ripple that kindness created.

For this Peace Walker, the reminder is that while we may not ever see the ripple we make, each act of kindness has an energy that can expand if we are willing to pass the kindness forward. And in that energy, the ripple can expand ad infinitum.

Where can you ripple today?

 

This morning, as I reflected on the events in this country fifteen years ago, I was acutely aware of the way people came together in solidarity to grieve, console and support each other in a time where vulnerability spanned every aspect of our lives.

Later in the day, I was equally aware of the profound isolation some people feel – even when they have folks around them who are ready to rally for and with them. They too, are vulnerable.

In some cases, events are huge. In others, not as large. Always, the impact is profound.

In a world where vulnerability has been mistaken for weakness, and stoicism is the norm, true connection is often missed.

Is there someone you know of that is in need of a champion? Do you need someone to see your vulnerable side and empower you in it? Is there someone with whom you want to truly connect? Or perhaps someone being “strong” who might need to be invited to be vulnerable?

For this Peace Walker, reaching out and truly connecting is a first step on the road to Peace.

With whom will you truly connect today?

Chandler found a brand new bag of dog treats last night, and managed to devour the entire bag without my knowledge. Unfortunately for her, she was quite uncomfortable and bloated last night. I feel grateful that I know Chandler as well as I do, because I could tell this morning that she still wasn’t feeling up to par. After going to the groomer to have her nails trimmed, we came home and Chandler rested a good portion of the day. Tonight, thank goodness, everything has processed, and she is back to her “normal” self.

Later in the afternoon, I spoke with a friend who has been sick for almost two weeks, and she is recovering very slowly. In fact, when she went to the doctor to get a return to work authorization, her doctor said she needed more time to recover. She also instructed my friend to rest. My friend said that she has “no guilt” about doing nothing, since the doctor said she isn’t well yet.

When I woke up this morning, my foot was causing me a fair amount of pain, and discomfort – something I can only describe as feeling like a deep burning slowly oozing its way up my calf. I found myself feeling restless and wanting to be better. The irony is that my knee feels great. And…my foot and calf do not.

Here’s part that I need to pay attention to:

When Chandler didn’t feel well, she got quiet and rested. She didn’t try and get up to play or to watch activity outside. She simply rested. And I was glad for her. I was attentive to her needs. I helped her get through her discomfort. It never occurred to me to rush this process.

As I thought about my friend and about my own restlessness, I wondered what it would be like to simply give ourselves permission to rest – until our bodies let us know we are better.

We live in a world where “hurry up and do” is the norm; where resting feels like we’re going to miss something, or we’re not doing enough.

Tonight, I choose to learn from my dog. Honor my body. Know that I am healing, and that sometimes, healing hurts. Slow down. Rest. Know that in order for me to recover fully, I must find Peace in the process, no matter how long it takes.

 

I had the opportunity to work very closely for several years with someone who taught me a great deal about language and the impact our use of it can have. When we first started working together, it was not uncommon for me to announce that I “hated” something. That something could be the color of the paint our client had chosen, the clerks in the hardware store, something I was served at a meal, etc. Fortunately, my friend and coworker stopped me in mid-sentence one afternoon and said, “Do you really?” “What?”, I asked. “Do you really hate the color we’re painting?” I explained that I didn’t really hate it, but that it wasn’t a color I was drawn to. And, my friend said that when I used the word hate, it seemed so far removed from the person she knew me to be, that it actually made her uncomfortable. She also said that the way I used the word seemed like no matter what I applied it to had the same importance (food, paint color, human beings).

This was a good lesson for me. I began thinking more before I spoke, and ultimately, found that there is no place for hate in my vocabulary. The conversation about language that my friend and I had that afternoon, began a change in me that continues to this day.

I find myself looking at what I say (as well as what I write), and wanting to share my thoughts and ideas in a way that people are receptive to rather than put off by. Also, the more respectful and responsive I am with my words, the greater the impact. When I use words that are reactionary or defensive, the tenor of what I’m saying changes.

Language is strong – I hope that each day, I can speak and write from a place of Peace, and that in doing so, my words may be received in Peace as well.