Sunday, February 10, 2013

What Kind Of Piece Do You Carry?


"What kind of piece do you carry?" That was the question.  “Ha ha," I answer, “that’s a loaded question for sure.

The Colonel and I sat having a drink after a beautiful afternoon of snowshoeing.  We are two very different people.  His life’s work based on being ready and going to war, and mine in finding my peace.  From time to time he reminds me that at this very moment there is someone out in the world plotting to kill me.  It always feels like someone punched me in the gut when he says it.

I respond by telling him that at this very moment there is someone out there who loves me.  The light and warmth of the thought makes me feel like I’m holding a little puppy for the first time and there is so much joy that the thought overwhelms me.  While not oblivious to how the world works, cause and effect, I choose the thoughts of peace and love.  Nothing beats how it makes me feel.  I would rather hold a puppy than get socked in the gut.

The debate over guns and gun control has an appearance of an all consuming rant and rave by some.  The media is doing it’s job of dramatizing events and telling the stories.  It can be disturbing if you let it be.  With all this talk about guns and gun control, where is the talk about peace?

I look at the Colonel and tell him I happen to carry a very big peace! It’s super shiny and doesn’t weigh an ounce.  I carry my peace with me everywhere, I even sleep with my peace!  My peace gets wet in the shower and it doesn’t even rust.  I’ve taken my peace inside a school, the grocery store and even to a hockey game.  Sometimes I load my peace in a smile and shoot it at people just to see what a random act of using my peace will do.

One day there was an unfortunate man who could barely walk at a local restaurant waiting for his food.  As I sipped my coffee he shouted over to me asking me to go pick up his food.  Instead of judging his torn and wet clothes and thinking he really has the nerve to order me around, I got up and fetched him his food.  It was just more peaceful to go do it than to think about justifying why not to.  When I set his food down in front of him, he said “thank you, peace be with you”.  Oh my!  How did he know I am packing peace?