PEACE IS A PERSONAL PROCESS

Remember when you were going out into the world—do you remember what you wanted to achieve? Maybe it was prosperity or recognition, or a place to hang your hat and park your car or cars.  Maybe your goal was to have a title and a corner office, high above the city, and to be someone your folks would be proud of. Or, maybe it was a place to share your life with someone special, and have a family to call your own. For many of us, it was all of the above and more, and I was one of them. Then, you achieved those goals and things seem to settle down. Now you just wanted to maintain the status quo, but one word kept creeping up.  It was not that significant way back when you stated this journey; but it became more important every day, and that word was “peace.”

Many churches have in their hymnals an old song called “Let There Be Peace on Earth” and continues with, “and let it began with me.” Well, it’s not really that old—it dates back to 1955.  If you haven’t heard it, you must be living under a rock someplace. There are not a lot of words to the song, but those that are there are powerful to anyone who is looking for peace. “Let peace began with me and let this be the moment now.” Ah yes, we are getting impatient in our old age, aren’t we. All of the things I mentioned above brought us satisfaction, but somehow, peace has alluded us and the clock is ticking. We need one more thing before we call it a game and drop the curtain. We need peace in our lives. “Let there be peace on earth, the peace that was meant to be.”

I find it baffling that this peace we need so badly, at the end of our lives, has never been that important until now. That all of those other things took center stage and now, when we know that the ball has dropped, and we’re not going to go back there anymore, we want some peace and serenity. I sit in church on Sunday, and as I look around, the thought has come to me, what are all of these people praying for? Are some of them praying for peace in their lives? By peace, I mean personal peace, and not just peace in this troubled world. We will never get peace in this world until we find it in ourselves. We can’t just sing, “Let it begin with me.” We have to sing, “It has to begin with me.” We are part of the ingredients in the process, and it is essential we not be hypocrites. Do as I do, and not just as I say. If we don’t have it ourselves, we are like chocolate chip cookies without the chips. Nothing to brag about, really. We need to find it early in our lives, when we can inspire others and let it spread.

When I see people who are at peace with themselves, it makes me smile—and believe me, it shows. I’m talking about their peace—not my smile. When I see people who are constantly troubled, I want them to find that peace because, when we all find it, then we will truly “walk with our brothers all over this world, in perfect harmony.” There is an old adage that “Familiarity breeds contempt.” In effect, it means the more you know about someone, the more you will find fault with him or her. Not true. When you are at peace with yourself, and your friends and family, there is no room for contempt in your life. This is an axiom we can all live with.

THE KILLINGS

                                                           

 When my grandson was a small boy, one day, I watched him playing video games on what, I assumed, was an X-box. I asked him, “What was the object of the game?” and he told me, “To kill as many people as you can.”

The makers of these games, and the movie and television people have done a remarkable job of bringing this carnage to life on the screens. I must say, it’s very realistic with pieces of bone and blood and gore everywhere. It’s almost a “How to do it” video. But now I would like them to tap into their talents to show their clients the effect that sudden death has on someone. Let’s see how real you can show the emotions that come out when some nut case shoots up a theater or a school. Let’s see if you can make the people viewing your stuff–and that’s being kind–feel the loss and the grief when someone’s brother, sister, mother, father or baby is suddenly killed. Let’s see if you can show us what happens to the person, standing next to the person shot in the head, who survives. We don’t want to just see people killed—we want to see how their friends, family and witnesses feel about it. It’s only fair that you show the other side of the story. I’ve been there countless times as a firefighter, and have seen it up close and personal—it’s made me cry. Let’s see if you can make your customers cry, and then, when and if they put that stuff away in the closet, again being kind, or throw it away, I will say “job well done.” And by the way, none of it is age-appropriate.

I firmly believe that, from the moment of birth, it’s what you do and what you don’t do to teach your children about what’s right and what’s wrong, that preprograms them for life. If you leave this training up to peers and others in society, then you must share responsibility for what happens in their lives. Every time one of these tragedies happens, where some person runs amok and takes the lives of others, it’s not just the victims who suffer but the friends and family of the guilty person who suffer too. All to often they are good people and are just as appalled by what has happened as the families of the victims. They will spend the rest of their lives wondering where they failed.

We incarcerate more people in this country than any other country in the world. Why is our society so vicious and cruel? Maybe it’s because we have freedoms not seen in any other part of the world, and freedoms that were never meant to be what they are today. But litigious people have gone to great lengths to misinterpret them to mean, “almost anything goes” when it comes to freedom of speech and behavior. Blame the guns if you want, I don’t care, but the person pulling the trigger is the real killer and someone made them that way. They weren’t born like that.

Yes, my friends, you reap what you sow. This killing in Colorado won’t be the last one, and I’m betting not that much time goes by before there is another one. There is no stopping them, because the time for stopping them has come and gone. Instead, we have all of these newfound freedoms to show our kids how to kill. Is this the freedom we talk about that our veterans fought for? I think not.

SUMMERS FLEETING MOMENTS

                                    

 And so now the dog days of summer are upon us.  That quiet cove, in the lake you live on, is now overgrown with water lilies and duckweed. The lake seems uncommonly quiet once again, as the energy for playing on jet skies and speedboats amongst the younger set has dissipated, and at least for this year, it’s just not fun anymore. The fishing becomes more difficult with the heat and the bugs and all of the vegetation growing in the lake. People my age are content to just sit in the shade with a cool drink, and watch the last vestiges of summer slide away. We know we can squander the remnants of summer, but we can do little to make it last. Somehow, though, we’re not content to just fritter it away.

My garden is half-picked, and the apple trees are burdened down with fruit. Mowing grass early this spring, which was welcome exercise, has become a chore no one wants to do. You look at the honey-do list you made this spring, and yes, you did get the roof replaced and some new downspouts added, but so many things remain undone. “Maybe tomorrow” you say. Each day you notice that darkness comes earlier and earlier, and you think, wouldn’t it be nice if you lived in a world where every day would be like June 23^rd. A world where daytime and nighttime share the clock equally.

I have struggled for years to find an analogy that does justice to my thoughts—of summer winding down. Maybe it’s because for me, summer is the fun time; and maybe it’s because, at least in my mind, the seasons so closely mimic our own waning lives. Old age only serves to bring that thought front and center. August is the time of the year when the foliage may be bruised by summer storms and drought, but still holds its lovely green hue, the dominant background color that Mother Nature uses so well in her verdant pastures. All of the pretty flowers have long blossomed, and what is left is unexciting and mundane. The host plants live on, but without their colorful blossoms that were their focal point, no one notices them in the garden any more. They are just a silent silhouette of what they once were. I, too, was more attractive in my own springtime; but now I rely on cognition brought on from years of living life, for any recognition that may come my way.

Sometimes, it seems like life begins all over again each summer. It surely does for the flora and fauna. For some reason, it’s a romantic season full of new surprises every day. In the summertime, a soft rain pulls at the strings of your heart. In the fall, it is just damp and disappointing and reminiscent of the cold months ahead. But I feel, if we could hang onto summer forever, its special qualities would soon fade like the setting sun, for we need its “ups and downs” to make life interesting. Natalie Babbitt wrote, and I quote, “The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn. But the first week of August is motionless and hot. It is curiously silent too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons and sunsets smeared with too much color.”