In a World on Edge...
On Saturday, my weekend began in the most beautiful way — co-hosting a Gathering for Peace with Ania Brown at Little Brown Farm, a quaint and welcoming space.
Twenty beautiful humans came together to honour the Walk for Peace — the Buddhist monks who walked 2,300 miles across the United States to promote peace, compassion, and loving kindness — and to celebrate peace within our own community.
During the concluding ceremony for the Walk for Peace on February 18 at the Lincoln Memorial, Venerable Bhikkhu Pannakara said:
“Walk for Peace is not a protest. Not to convert. It is a reminder that hope still exists when people are willing to care. Hope is a final light that must never go out.”
Those words feel especially meaningful in this moment.
At our gathering, we created a sacred circle and invited everyone to share what inspired them to join us.
What I heard again and again was this: when people saw the impact the monks were having from city to city, they felt hope.
Hope for peace.
Hope for humanity.
Hope for themselves and their families.
It was such an uplifting morning of connection and sharing. We relaxed and gazed inward. We sang kirtan led by Laura Desjarlais. We enjoyed delicious treats lovingly prepared by my sister, Deb, and Peace Tea crafted especially for our gathering by Monica Klein of Crafty Apothecary.
Peace is not passive.
There are many things in this world that are beyond our control. We cannot single-handedly stop the ongoing wars. We cannot solve every injustice. We cannot quiet every storm.
But there are many things we can do.
We can cultivate peace within ourselves as a daily practice.
When we nurture peace within our own hearts, it ripples outward into every interaction — every conversation, every smile, every moment of patience.
This is not small. This is not naïve. It is powerful.
We can gather.
We can sit in a circle together.
We can listen.
We can share.
Right now, it feels more important than ever to gather in community.
There is so much fear in the world. So much polarization. So much noise. And when we get caught up in it, our nervous systems tighten and our hearts close.
When we gather together with like-minded intention, something sacred happens. There is a kind of quiet magic that emerges — the magic of shared humanity. The magic of remembering that we are not alone, that there is goodness in the world, and that our presence has an impact.
On Saturday, a bonus for me was that this gathering fell on my “unbirthday.” I was born on February 29th — a leap year baby.
What a beautiful way to begin another trip around the sun —
surrounded by community,
rooted in intention,
choosing peace.
If this morning reminded me of anything, it is this:
Hope is not gone.
It is alive wherever people are willing to care.
And Venerable Bhikkhu Pannakara shared, this light must never go out.
With love,
Diane