Peace & Blessings

Peace and blessings 


to you 
and your families 
and this sweet old green earth ~


namaste

The Peace Of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me

and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests in his beauty on the water, 
and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

~ Wendell Berry

My Peace I Give You

It's been almost a week since the terrible shooting in Tucson. Then came all the talk and outrage, flowers and memorial services. So much grief to hold. For many, the grieving won't sink in for days, maybe weeks, and then. 


Burying a daughter, not yet ten, I cannot imagine. 


In the midst of tragedy, life continues. Walks, bus stop talks, taking a father to the doctor, writing, snow days, food shopping, work. We still get up and do our lives. 


We must.


And so when I saw the bumper sticker on the snow-splattered car in front of me at the market, my heart lifted. May it lift yours...


Peace I leave with you
My peace I give you

Joseph Of Rockaway

The phone rang at 7:58 this morning.
"Sears here. I'm just pulling up to your house."
I stepped outside to greet our garage door-fixer.
"Ah! A man after my own heart," I said, "coming before the stroke of eight like this. You're an angel."
"Well, at least somebody thinks so,"he said.
"Well, good morning!" I said, "I'm Betsy."
"I'm Joseph,"he said, cracking a smile.


"It's your drive gear,"Joseph said, after listening to the gears stall. 
"Hmmm, can it be fixed?" I asked.
"Sure,"he said.
"Are you from Cape Cod?"I asked.
"Nope, Rockaway,"Joseph said, "but everyone thinks I'm from New England.


Joseph has three girls, triplets, five and a half years old.
"Heather, Hope, and Courtney," he said, sliding a photo out from the visor in his truck. He moved back to the Poconos four years ago to be closer to his parents. 
"It's better this way,"he said, "the drive was getting too much, you know."
"I know, my Dad lives with us now,"I said.
"Hey, we need to lend a hand, right. My grandmother moved in with my parents, well, she passed. But now, my folks are getting older and, you know. It's fine being here. I like to ski,"he said.


Tonight the triplets are in a Christmas pageant at school.
"They're sweet girls,"he said,"the pageant will be sweet." 


"Here's my card if you need more help,"Joseph said, reaching out to shake my hand.
"Merry Christmas,"I said.
"Merry Christmas to you too," he said.


It was another fine day of This Being Alive; sharing tiny stories & a warm handshake with Joseph of Rockaway. 


Let's keep passing the peace.

Memorial Day

Your mother wears army boots, used to be a put down. Not anymore.

While we were swimming in the pond up at the family farm, a whole lot of women were wearing army boots in places like Iraq and Afghanistan. Some of them have babies back home while they're driving Humvees in the desert. Or flying jets, or stitching up bodies. It's a whole other life, so far away from this lush life here by the Delaware River in Pennsylvania.

I hate war.

If I had my way, all of our service women and men would be home, sitting around kitchen tables, playing croquet, jumping in spring-fed ponds.

Until they do, I'm praying for them and their families, and remembering all those who've gone before them.

Praying for peace for this sweet, old earth.