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Posts Tagged ‘world peace’

Truth alone will endure. All the rest will be swept away before the tide of time. (Mahatma Gandhi)

The bedroom clock is off. Ten minutes slow. I rely on those large bright digits. However, a clock can be forgiven, adjusted. It may be faulty but doesn’t have motives.

Recently I found myself forgiving someone—before I had come to terms with my own feelings about a simple incident. Yes, I believe in forgiveness, but truth needs to be faced first. I can’t begin with the second, higher flight of stairs. I need perspective. How I wish it came naturally.

That pause. That time to breathe and allow myself to recognize this moment, the next, and then the whole. Sure, I’m grateful not to be the hothead who begins with a lash-out. There is less repair later. However, I forget that as a tool for the greater good, rust spots in the mind ruin effectiveness.

Truth. Pure in its definition. Harassed in real life.

The world scene. The government in my own county. The greed, hate, horror, ignorance. People dismissed inside a prejudicial label. Never touched so that they can be viewed without names and lives. Left versus right when the two need to work in the same body.

I watch the injustice and fight despair, give what I can and let truth endure. Eventually. The world’s clock is off as toxic waste is dumped into the earth’s water. The less people have the more they pay. Yet many conned, poor, uneducated individuals honor a man who leads them into further destruction.

Somehow, with the help of hands willing to join, truth endures. I pray not to give up. A fight doesn’t need fists to be real.  The world doesn’t need debate, an I’m-right attitude. It needs integrity.

 

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Men are not moved by things but by the views they take of them. (Epictetus)

A sunburst strikes the windshield of my car and I beg it to stay. Cleanse my thoughts. Highlight the good. Too many people want to believe the earth can’t be affected by poisons tossed into the air. A man who disrespects other people and nations is okay—for anything.

And yet, judgment of any individual is not my right.

The sudden sun-brightness doesn’t stay. It never does. Peace, right now? Maybe not. I discover only smiles of encouragement and the assurance that integrity is always in season. Perfection, not as much. The bottom photos lean. May time help them. Direction isn’t the issue: peace is.

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(close-ups: cactus and Diet Pepsi can, thermal camera view)

 

Repetition does not transform a lie into a truth. (Franklin D. Roosevelt)

The word, lie, appears in the media too many times to count. Quantifying transgressions is a waste of time. Truth, unfettered by emotion, exists. However, it hides under heavy layers of hype.

My father often told me, “Consider the source.” In those days I understood it in terms of bullying, not truth-sorting. Nevertheless, his advice fits.

How much does any everyday observer know about truth, the whole story?

Imagine aliens, the outer space variety. Their appearance doesn’t matter. Green. Orange. Short. Tall. They visit the earth and land their ship in a desert in the United States. They see a few lizards and decide they must be the inhabitants. 

One of the other-world visitors touches a cactus. “Hmmmn, not a friendly place.” (In other-planet language, obviously)

An empty diet soft-drink can lay half-hidden in sandy soil. The leader notices it. “Ooh, what is this?”

The second in command kicks it. “Looks like a home for something.”

An Arizona wolf spider crawls out.

“There is an odd odor coming from inside this residence, the residue of something,” one of the aliens adds.

None of the alien group decides to investigate the planet further. The wolf spider, lizard, cactus and empty can have provided sufficient evidence. Ignorant creatures. This planet is not worth its sand.

These aliens exist only in my imagination. Earth and its inhabitants are real. Some live well. Others endure dire poverty. I pray truth, courage, and enough solid concern for the whole, can save this globe. Eventually.

 

 

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hands united (3)_LI“I don’t think of all the misery, but of all the beauty that still remains.” (Anne Frank)

Chaos reigns in national news. I blush when I consider how the American citizen appears to people in other countries—if certain groups remain the example. To be the greatest country means to be an instrument for peace—for all. However, greatness requires an emphasis on action, not boasts.

I applaud the many people who speak out, especially those who manage to point out wrongs without including pejorative and prejudicial terms. Or profanity. Without tossing hatred at hatred. Fire never puts out fire.

When I hear the ugly on TV, I groan. Of course, I react! The challenge comes with opportunities to magnify a horrified response: Bullied calls to war. Refusals to notice hurricane victims not in the continental US. Religion without acceptance of different nations and people.

However, there is nothing simple about choosing what is sometimes called a higher road. There are no quick solutions or instant gratifications along its path. I’ve fallen from a metaphorical mountain bridge now and then.

Fortunately, along the road again I find friends, incredible friends. We share how we think and feel, honestly. And, we speak “…the beauty that still remains.”

One of these friends told a story of a small boy who practiced his one line in a Christmas pageant. As innkeeper he needed to tell Joseph and Mary there was no room in the inn. However, when he saw his classmates and looked in their eyes, he couldn’t follow through. He said, “Come on in…” I don’t know how the play ended. I can only wish.

My wish for the world? Anne Frank pointed out beauty. It could not save her, but it exists. Inside anyone who notices. For the human-race, may all divisions merge. Into possibilities.

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Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. (Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.)

I am in a small circle of friends, sixteen people today. We have religious roots. Some of us cling to them more than others. However, dogma doesn’t come up in our sharing. It is secondary. Spirituality, how-we-live, is another matter. One woman in our group has brought her daughter and six-month-old grandson.

As expected, he steals the show. I pull out my iPad to sneak a picture as he points to the words in a songbook. However, my library of photos is overfull. No picture happens. A message appears: Go to settings and… This moment will need to stay in my memory. Perhaps, even better, I will need to find meaning in what is happening now, over and beyond a cute pic.

I consider the baby’s innocence. As we sing, share, pray, he brightens even more, his sweet smile blessing all of us. We discourage political discussion—particularly in depth—less as a set rule than as a directive. We are on the same page politically anyway. Rants prove nothing. We try to work toward peace, toward being peace.

Quiet acceptance and encouragement refreshes my spirit. I suspect baby felt that presence long before I did. It allowed him to goo and coo his acceptance of the much older folk in the circle.

Yes, prejudice and hate masquerade as virtues: taking a few incidents and calling limited evidence the whole, posing as victim. However, pointing out another person’s flaws rarely helps. Most folk have an instant defense system. Closed ears, open mouth, or both.

Now, how to love in a world where hate is the norm? That question may take more than a lifetime or two to answer.

one light, a beginning

photo taken from my iPad (Yes, I finally accomplished that small challenge.)

lit-candle

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You have made some mistakes, and you may not be where you want to be, but that has nothing to do with your future. ( Zig Ziglar )

This post comes after contemplating the nature of arguments:

Strange how often people use the word mistake with a shrug of the shoulders when they talk about themselves, yet accent both syllables when they refer to other people, especially when those folk express opposing viewpoints. We claim these purported errors to be born of ignorance, incompetence, irreverence, or bullheadedness. I’d like to say I’m immune; I’m not. However, criticism isn’t part of my routine. I want to learn as much as I can from the complete picture—and that information isn’t always immediately available at the flip of an emotion.

The way most people feel about almost anything is super-glued to the soul, even if a person claims to be open-minded. Dissolving that bias takes a lot of energy. What we believe we know becomes like the foundation of a house. No one wants to collapse into rubble. Confrontation with someone with a different notion doesn’t lead to truth; it means battle.

I suspect that a sound foundation doesn’t have to be shattered—provided it is built on integrity, honesty, and love. It may need only a few alterations. The problem arrives when it expects the house next door to wear the same shingles.

I sigh as I scroll through Facebook posts that make me grimace, focusing on hate and violence according to my perspective. Then, I realize that the posts that state my beliefs don’t bother me at all. I see their logic. “We don’t see things as they are. We see them as we are.” (Anaïs Nin) While I don’t want to lose focus on World Peace, I don’t want to stop learning from the whole either.

Omniscience isn’t my game, and I don’t want it to be. A daily attempt toward making the world a better place, with a few stumbles along the way? Well, that is another matter.

decorate life with colors

 

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