Day 70
peace
Is there anything so elusive? Yet, there are so many moments, like this one, when the only reason I am not at peace is because I am unable to stop the incessant chatter in my head.
The most impressive people, in my humble opinion, are those that in the midst of violence and chaos, have inner peace. The dying man forgiving the other dying man—extending one final time before the end, to offer the olive branch.
I am a person who really, very strongly, dislikes conflict. But inner peace is still difficult for me. I do not like to be at odds with others, but am constantly at odds with myself.
In nature, there is an illusion of peace. When you look closely, there is destruction and rot, violence and death everywhere. Life exists at the surface of layers and layers and layers of decomposition. There is almost no thing sitting still in what we call the natural world; least of all ourselves.
Yet, through the window the sun is gliding down toward the horizon casting a last long warm golden finger across the valley. The sky is mirrored in the pond, interrupted by the silhouettes of a family of geese. The green is aggressively sweet and smells like freshness itself. The air is almost stock still, birds are hushed in thick pine branches. I can sense dusk and then darkness hovering just beyond this moment, and I am calm. It is the very portrait of Peace. Only this landscape and I know the unrest that inhabits this hour.
