Every morning I turn the TV on to a cable news channel to make sure the world hasn't ended. And then, I turn on the weather. Or my DVR. Or music. Or I read. Because, and this is sad for a journalism major to say, the best diet for peace of mind today is a news-free one. The constant jabber of the . . .
How hard is it to find a peaceful life? Maybe not as hard as it seems. It's not necessary to watch the news every day. Or read it. Or respond to it if we do read it. Not every nasty comment on social media must be responded to. When someone calls a politician we know and do not love a bad name, . . .
Certain things are true. Such as, "just do it." Which means, stop all the excuses and reasons and rationalizations and make it happen. (I'm good at those rationalizations. I've honed them to a fine point.) The same with peace. It doesn't come with 72 virgins or bombing the hell out of things or . . .
Today's peace prayer brought to you courtesy of the Santa Fe Farmers Market. . . .
This was published in Nov. 2011 in my local Patch.com edition, but I thought it was appropriate for this week. It was 1984, and I’d just arrived in California, young, newly divorced looking to reinvent myself and my life. The timing wasn’t so good: Christmas just a few weeks away and I was alone in . . .
It's a WTF kind of world. You know what I mean. WTF seems to be the only response to some of the things that happen in our world. A journalist gets beheaded. WTF?? An airplane completely disappears without a trace. A beloved funnyman takes his own life. The Gaza Strip. Joan Rivers' . . .
Pray for Peace I must interrupt regularly scheduled programming because the world has gone mad once again and terrorists of all flavors are running rampant, many in the name of religion. Children are being beheaded. People are being buried alive. These barbarous acts are worse than we can . . .
Something's been shifting in me for a while and it has to do with my tolerance for violence, real or implied. I have no tolerance for it any more. None. Zero. Zip. When I encounter it, my heart finds it so unbearable that it cringes. It draws back. I want to cover my ears. Close my eyes. Click . . .
These past four days I lived in a place where all hearts were wide open. No, we weren't all sitting around singing Kumbaya. Not at all. We were scientists, scholars, chaplains, grieving families, soul journeyers, mediums, physicians--you name it--all gathered together to share and to love. All . . .
Let the first act of every morning be to make the following resolve for the day: I shall not fear anyone on Earth. I shall fear only God. I shall not bear ill will toward anyone. I shall not submit to injustice from anyone. I shall conquer untruth by truth. And in resisting untruth, I shall put up . . .
