You want peace. I want peace. We all want peace.
So, how do you achieve a sustainable peace within yourself, your family and work places, your communities and world? There have been plenty of individuals and communities around the world who have modeled a committed and effective way to live this peace. For example, the Quakers focus upon peaceful reconciliation and nonviolent confrontation of evil as central tenants of their practice.
Mahatma Ghandi reminded us that “There is no way to peace. Peace is the way.”
And he modeled this with his every moment. Uniting a divided country, earning the title “Great Soul” (Mahatma), and blessing the man who shot him even as he collapsed. He inspired Martin Luther King, Jr. whose courageous modeling of peace and nonviolent protest changed our country.
Jesus was a peaceful presence and reminded us that “Blessed are the peace makers for they shall inherit the earth.”
At this time in history, the Earth and all her inhabitants are in need of peace makers. I’m taking the first couple weeks in January to drop within during an extended silent retreat. Quieting the noise of my inner and outer world. Seeking to soothe my nervous system, slow my pace, and hear the voice of my Soul.
I imagine my Soul will have a thing or two to teach me about “peace is the way.”
Meditation and contemplative practices have long been promoted by all wisdom traditions as a way into the peace that surpasses everything.
That peace that is back behind all things and all frenetic movement. Just waiting to reveal its very nature as your own. Meditation is a strong practice for many religions, yogis, and now the scientific community with its acceptance of mind-body practices and mindfulness techniques.
Research has shown that groups of experienced meditators can lower crime rates, reduce ER visits and psychiatric crises, decrease accidental deaths, and decrease complaints against police.
There are many studies of large groups of experienced TM meditators creating statistically significant effects (beyond chance) like this. My favorite is the Washington DC project where they found violent crime reduced by 23%. Here’s an article published by the World Peace Group that may inspire you.
I’d invite you to join the annual World Peace Meditation on Friday, December 31st at 7am, EST.
This tradition was started many years ago by John Randolph Price who invited people around the globe to meditate on peace for one hour – synced with noon, Greenwich Mean Time. I’ve been participating for years and always enjoy the personal and communal experience of this deeply peaceful intention.
The Center for Conscious Living in Moorestown, NJ is hosting a ZOOM World Peace Meditation.
Sign in, mute your microphone, and drop within to add your beautiful energy and intent to this world so in need of peace.
I’ll be with you.
Peace be with you and with all. No exceptions.
Your brain likes to meditate. Silent contemplation, or simply closing your eyes and breathing, activates neural pathways that support calm. These pathways underlie beneficial traits such as feeling present, grateful, and steady. With meditation you can deliberately stimulate that circuitry and bring such experience into awareness. Activating calm, steadfastness, and contentment within your body actually converts those experiences into lasting change in neural structure and function. Explore psychologist Rick Hanson’s books Neurodharma and Buddha’s Brain to understand neuroplasticity and the benefits of meditation.
Learn the one essential skill that allows you to face any challenge with confidence, sturdiness, and inner calm.
More than a technique. It’s a game changer.
Three months ago, I unexpectedly entered into a relationship with a horse.
I met Zor during a visit to Liberty Stables in Florida, where I had gone to spend time with a friend’s horses. I had no particular expectations. I have no background with horses, no training, and no experience in equine-assisted therapy. I simply met this magnificent Friesian, and something quietly familiar unfolded between us.
I fell in love.
The women who arrive in my classes, retreats, and therapy sessions are sincerely looking for healing, expansion, clarity, or sometimes just a little room to breathe.
They are thoughtful women, deeply engaged with the people and work they love. Rarely do they arrive because they want another spiritual philosophy. Most are carrying something much more ordinary.
A life that has become full. Beautiful in many ways, but crowded.
About twenty-five years ago, I was driving with a colleague to a local conference. As we approached the hotel entrance, I noticed an open parking spot near the front door.
“There’s a spot,” I said, pointing to the right. He drove past it.
A few seconds later, another one appeared. He drove past that one, too. Then I pointed to a third. “There’s a spot.” Without the slightest hesitation, Dan replied, “I’ll leave that for someone else.” And he calmly parked much farther away. As we walked to the entrance, I asked about that statement.
During the Seeding the Light Gathering, I had the privilege of hosting Pascual and Jose Tomas in our home.
They feel like family as this was their second visit to New Jersey. We’ve also spent a week together in Damanhur and the Temples of Humankind in Italy. I’ve sat in many ceremonies with Pascual in Peru’s Sacred Valley. His flute playing often carried me up mountain trails in the thin air and hot sun.
I planned to work a bit, complete some projects, and enjoy slow days with plenty of relaxation.
All of that certainly occurred, but beneath it all, something else began quietly inviting my attention.
The plane had begun its slow fall toward the earth when a sharp ache pierced my ears. Half-dozing, half-aware, I surfaced into the moment just as the toddler in front of me woke with a scream that broke her open. The sound wasn’t defiance or misbehavior. It was pain.
I felt her small body struggling to make sense of something she couldn’t name.
Her mother bent over her with the tenderness of someone trying very hard to be a good parent. But her soothing came dressed in urgency, in the quiet pressure to behave, to use words, to be okay, to not disturb those seated around her. Her voice shook with the effort of managing her child’s distress and her own rising shame.
