ROOTS

When solving problems,

dig at the roots instead of just hacking at the leaves.

~Anthony J. D’Angelo

Wild Weeds.  MJohnson  © 2009.

I’ve learned a lot about life by working in my yard. For instance, here in my mountain community great emphasis is placed on keeping things in their natural state. Aside from the main roads, very few surfaces are paved. Instead, roads and driveways are formed with packed sand and gravel.

Likewise, my back patio was designed to be gentle to the land, created from large slabs of flagstone that fit together like puzzle pieces with tiny pebbles in between, rather than grout or cement. The downside to this design reveals itself in the warmer months when I am faced with a mass of unruly weeds, awkwardly sprouting between the stones.

At first I went on a weed-pulling frenzy, bent over for hours as I pulled and tugged at the stalks of things I couldn’t define. After a while, my back hurt and my hands were tired, so I settled for the appearance of no weeds; I wanted to have my friends over for a fabulous party on the patio. At that point, I started grabbing handfuls of weeds, pulling wildly as I went for a quick-fix to the problem. A quick-fix it was not, for within two weeks those pesky weeds were back—thicker and stronger than ever—and, once again, I found myself slumped over for hours pulling them from the ground.

The next spring, older and wiser, I decided to take a different approach. Armed with a variety of earth-digging apparatus, I settled in for an afternoon of weed pulling, moving methodically between the stones, taking my time, digging deep into the earth to get to the root. It took me most of the day, but that season I only pulled weeds twice.

I thought it was a done deal. Imagine my surprise to see new weeds sprouting the next spring. My effort to get to the root wasn’t deep enough, and failed to take into account the many branching veins and structures supporting their unruly growth. This time, armed with an animal-friendly weed killer, I made a cocktail strong enough to take them all down, gently pouring the mixture between the stones in an effort to eradicate them forever. That year, I only pulled weeds once. Now it’s all about maintenance.

My experience with weeds—as difficult and frustrating as it was—gave me great insight into the depth of human nature and the truth of effective problem-solving. All of life, every creation, every problem, everything we think, say or do can be traced to the fundamental core from which it grew. When we ignore the root, we miss an opportunity for greater understanding, and without understanding we cannot possibly hope to solve the problem in a meaningful way.

So it is with social justice. When dealing with the great issues of our time, especially in this “day of the non-profit,” where giving is seen as fashionable among the “haves,” the first thing we should do is ask: What’s really going on here? Then start digging at the roots. That’s what many of the great charitable organizations are trying to do, often in tandem with offers of temporary relief.

But simply throwing money at a problem or attempting to lift people out of their problems without more—understanding why it persists or requiring some form of self-help from the receiver while sharing critical tools for future problem-solving (“teach a man to fish…”and such)—is no better than hacking at the leaves of pesky weeds.

Some criminal and civil justice systems have been examining their roots as well, evolving toward a more holistic approach to problem-solving, albeit slowly at times. Rather than moving forward in a strictly adversarial way, restorative justice is a unique approach to law—a social movement, really—that focuses on the needs of the victims, offenders and the communities affected by their actions; digging deep to uncover root issues and bring forth peaceful approaches to harm, problem-solving and violations of legal and human rights.

After all, if the root problem that led an offender to commit burglary is her drug addiction, simply throwing her in prison in an effort to punish and exact revenge does nothing to address the underlying issue of addiction and its psychological cousins. In this way, a restorative justice approach demands compassion—a willingness for those harmed to see beyond their anger and grief and cooperate in arriving at a peaceful solution that considers the safety and dignity of all—together with the offender’s commitment not only to repair the harm done, but to eradicate the root that led to the crime or civil malfeasance in the first place.

Examples abound; because in the end, everything has a root. So do we.  And we must go there to understand what keeps us grounded—for good or ill—for it will determine much about the direction of our growth.

___________________________

By  Melissa Johnson; © 2010.  All rights reserved worldwide.  

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Consciousness Unfolding

One thing we do know:

Life will give you whatever experience

is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness.

~Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth

Consciousness Unfolding © 2008 by Melissa Johnson.

___________________

I was having dinner with a friend in a small North Beach restaurant in the heart of San Francisco—one of the most culturally diverse cities in America—when two guys with shaved heads walked in dressed in camouflage, suspenders and black boots, bearing the Aryan Nation insignia. They were loud and boisterous, making everyone uncomfortable from the start, and we just knew they weren’t from the city. Within moments, two of the ethnic customers got up and left the restaurant in a hurry while the supremacists made snide comments about their departure.

They placed their orders, taking pleasure in harassing the young Middle Eastern woman working behind the counter, and then took seats at a table in the middle of the restaurant where they continued with their mean-spirited banter, making loud racist comments and laughing at their power.

When their orders were ready, the young woman carried the tray from the kitchen and as she approached the men, one of them hit the tray from underneath, knocking it up into the air before sending it crashing to the floor, scattering food all over the restaurant. The girl immediately knelt down to clean up the mess, apologizing to the guys and telling them that she would bring more food.

“Avert your eyes,” one of the guys said loudly, scaring the girl even further into submission. “I said avert your eyes!” He commanded, laughing at her nervousness. Soon her Spanish co-worker appeared from behind the counter to help clean up the mess. Everyone in the restaurant held their breath, looking around nervously, afraid of what these guys might do—possibly planning their emergency exit—but no one doubted that we were in the presence of evil.  My friend and I ate quickly and left the restaurant, alerting a nearby policeman of the trouble brewing.

This is an extreme example given to illustrate the state of unconsciousness in which so many people live, disconnected from the essence of who they are and why they’re really here; focused on the physical illusions and thinking them real. But we don’t have to be racist pigs to be sleepwalking through life.  Unconsciousness comes in many forms.

Conscious [kon-shuhs]

To be conscious means that we are aware

of the true nature of our existence,

our sensations, our thoughts, our actions, our patterns,

the environment and the people around us;

it is to be mindful and willing participants
in the unfolding of our lives.

When we’re disconnected from Spirit, so identified with our egos and living in fear, we are asleep. When we participate in the human drama, caught up again and again in the pettiness of life, constantly on guard and doing battle, we are asleep. When we attempt to control or oppress others through manipulation, fear or domination—believing that we’re somehow entitled to our “superior” status—we are asleep. When we fail or refuse to see that our actions, habits and attitudes impact the people and environment around us, we are asleep.

When an inner situation is not made conscious,

it appears outside as fate.

~Carl Jung

That we find ourselves now on the brink of environmental disaster—struggling with a laundry list of social issues—should come as no surprise given the way we have collectively lived here on planet Earth; the way we have so often put our personal interests above the greater environmental concerns, failing or refusing to take action when doing so would infringe on our comfort and convenience or otherwise threaten our bottom line. And then when faced with a crisis FINALLY we start to wake up and take steps to correct our course, all the while bemoaning our fate, some even viewing our reality as punishment from an angry and vengeful God.

Or consider the role of the United States in breeding anti-American sentiment in the world. The way we have knowingly supported the rise to power of certain unsavory characters (Saddam Hussein, for one) and then when we lose control of them, we invade their countries—hunt them down like dogs—and remove them from power, often killing innocent people in the process.

Or the way that our government has a history of selective intervention when people are being oppressed or subjected to horrific crimes against humanity, with such decisions—to intervene or not, and to what extent—based largely on our economic interests in that region.

We tiptoe all around the issue of sovereign rights even as basic human rights are being slaughtered by those in power, yet we barge right in with our bombs and self-righteousness when our oil interests are in jeopardy. Think of our failure to intervene in the mass political genocides of Rwanda in the 90s; or our soft trade embargos against Burma and our refusal to intervene in the torture, rape, murder and oppression of people taking place everyday by Burma’s junta (police); in large part so as not to disturb our economic interests there, and because China and Russia are Burma’s staunch allies in the UN and we wouldn’t dare cross China and Russia.

Or the way that Anti-Americanism continues to grow in Pakistan as a result of U.S. Drone attacks (by unmanned aerial vehicles) in their country, introduced first by President Bush in 2004 as part of this “War on Terror” and continued by President Obama today.

Or the Latin-American anti-American sentiment (dating as far back as the early 1830s) expressed by Che Guevara in 1961 for these unjust reasons:

“The United States hastens the delivery of arms to the puppet governments they see as being increasingly threatened and it makes them sign pacts of dependence to legally facilitate the shipment of instruments of repression and death and of troops to use them.”

Let’s be clear: I neither condone this hate nor give license to their retaliation anymore than I support the bad behavior of our U.S. leaders. As a criminologist, lawyer and human rights advocate, I have learned that we all have within us the capacity for good and evil.  So I'm not selectively bashing our great country.  To be sure, I am proud to be an American, and I continue to be amazed by the stories of heroism, community, selflessness and love of humanity expressed between neighbors, states, countries and so on, equally as powerful in breeding love as those that breed hate. 

But we are not innocent "victims" of our fate.  Our good does little to mitigate the damage our unconscious ways, and our failure or refusal to look at our collective role in the social issues we face is just another way that we sleepwalk through life.  To assume that the government or someone else will "take care of it" is equally unconscious.

Consciousness is not an all-or-nothing proposition; rather, it is a continual unfolding, day after day, year after year, lifetime upon lifetime—like the petals of a fragrant flower, opening wider and wider still to reveal its beautiful truth.

Eckhart Tolle says, “We are here to wake up.”  And as many people and societies have learned through time, either we can help ourselves in that process or we can have awareness forced upon us by circumstances seemingly beyond our control.

Because in the end, everything we close our eyes to or ignore will block us, and we will find ourselves drifting along on others’ agendas.  Our personal lives are no different.  And the more we back ourselves into a corner, the fewer choices we have.

In all things, we must seek the light of awareness. This is our big job, as my grandfather liked to say.  We must not look away because it’s difficult or inconvenient, or because it demands something of us. We must not wait for someone else to do what is within our power to do.

Instead, as we continue to ask ourselves as individuals, governments, nations and the world at large "Why do we do what we do?  How can we make it better?" perhaps, eventually, we'll break through the illusions that keep us stuck, layer by layer, until we no longer need such harsh reminders of this truth.

Some say I’m a dreamer; idealistic to a fault.  But I believe that our greatest creative choice on any given day is the choice to be conscious participants in the unfolding of our lives.

And you?  What story are you writing in the great book of humanity?

______________________________

By Melissa Johnson

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Sweet Surrender

Faith consists in believing

when it is beyond the power of reason to believe.

~Voltaire

Sweet Surrender © 2010 by Melissa Johnson.
________________

My friend Jimmy got into a bidding war on eBay for the purchase of a human soul.  He didn't go there looking for a soul, but he was charmed by the illusion of buying one when he found it was for sale. “Well, I thought it might be nice to have an extra one in my pocket just in case…” he joked when I teased him about his near purchase.  Ultimately, he missed the cut-off time for entering his final bid and the random soul was sold to the highest bidder for $50.

And to think … the Devil went down to Georgia looking for a soul to steal.  Now you can buy one on eBay from the comfort of your living room--and relatively cheap!  The world is flat, indeed.

All joking aside, Jimmy’s eBay auction really got me thinking: What is the value of a human life and the soul that dwells within?

I contemplated the extraordinary capacity of survivors to rebound from tragedy and loss—like those who lived to tell of the atrocities of Hitler’s Germany; children rescued from brothels after being sold into slavery by their families; ordinary people beating the odds of cancer or other life-threatening illnesses; rising from the ashes of violent crimes, disfiguring accidents or financial disaster—and I wondered, what allows these people to surrender with grace to their crushing circumstances?

Sure there are stories of human survival aided not so much by a spiritual belief system but by a strong will to live, rising up from somewhere deep within their DNA—fight or flight. But more often than not, the common thread running through these stories of survival can be traced to a fundamental faith in something far greater than the individual even when the events of their lives made no sense; even when it seemed that they had been forgotten.

When things run amuck in our lives,
without a spiritual root,
what do we hold on to?

What do we surrender to?

How do we hope for something better?

Where do we put our faith?

Consider these equally tragic examples with very different outcomes.

Rwanda in the 90s was a dark place. Tensions ran high as the two main political groups—the Tutsis and the Hutus—were pitted against each other in much the same way that Hitler seized political control of Germany, turning Nazis against Jews. As it was in the 90s, if you had the great misfortune of being born into a family of Tutsis, regardless of your independent beliefs, you were a target for political genocide.

Imaculee Illibigiza was one of the few Tutsi women who survived. On the run, she was taken in by a Hutu minister and hidden from her would-be killers, while her parents and brothers were slaughtered along with a million others.

Her refuge was a tiny bathroom measuring 3 x 4 feet, hidden behind an armoire in the minister’s bedroom; she shared this space with six other women for more than 90 days as they waited and prayed for their rescue. They couldn’t speak out loud or make any noise for fear of being heard. They were instructed to flush the toilet only when someone was using the adjoining bathroom. Believing that the minister was hiding the enemy, Hutu soldiers repeatedly raided his home in search of more Tutsis to kill. Yet they never found the tiny bathroom concealing these women.

While in hiding, Imaculee prayed and meditated for hours each day. In her state of exhaustion and hunger, she saw a vision of herself working for the U.N.; she believed it was a vision from God. And she knew that she would have to learn to speak English so that she could communicate with the other U.N. workers. Trusting her vision in spite of the circumstances surrounding her, she convinced the Hutu minister to bring her a French-English dictionary and some other English-language books. French was her second language; but there, in that tiny bathroom, while hiding from vicious killers, she taught herself to read and speak English without ever saying a word out loud and with no guarantee that she would even make it out alive.

In her memoir, Left to Tell, Imaculee recounts her long and painful ordeal. What strikes me most about her story was her path of sweet surrender. She didn’t panic or freak out. She accepted the circumstances of that tiny little bathroom as being temporary, while never losing faith in God and what she knew to be true despite outward appearances. She believed with all of her heart that there had to be a reason for her survival--why she was the one left to tell this horrific story--and she was right.

Not long after her release from the refugee camps where she stayed after her confinement in the minister’s bathroom, she was offered work with the U.N., helping to rebuild Rwanda and using her English-language skills in the process. And while grieving the loss of her family, she met the man who later became her husband and loved her through her pain.

But what makes one person surrender to life
and another surrender to death?

In September of 2008, in the throes of financial disaster, Kirk Stephensen, a 47 year-old husband and father of one, and the chief operating officer of a private equity house, stepped onto the tracks at a rail station west of London. He was struck by a train and killed instantly. His death was ruled suicide.

Later that same year, in New York City, just two days before Christmas, Frenchman Rene-Thierry Magon de la Villehuchet slashed both of his wrists—found dead at his desk next to a bottle of pills—after losing $1.4 billion of his own money (and money belonging to his family and clients) that he had invested with Bernie Madoff, making him one of the biggest losers in Madoff’s fraud. Having tried unsuccessfully to recover the money, his brother described him as “totally ruined.”

Then at the beginning of 2009, German billionaire Adolf Merckle threw himself in front of a moving train, taking his own life and leaving behind his wife and four children. His spirit broken by helplessness and fears of financial loss and devastation, Merckle’s suicide is yet another casualty of our global economic crisis.

As I watched these events unfold in the news, I felt sick. What is wrong with a society that supports a mindset where an individual’s worth is measured by their bank balance rather than their acts of kindness, or the kind of parent, friend, spouse, lover, boss, or brother they are?  Where financial loss leaves people not just devoid of cash, but bankrupt of all faith in the ability to recover and create something better for their lives?

In his compelling book, Creating a World that Works for All, Sharif Abdullah suggests spiritual starvation as the root issue. He writes:

“Lest you believe that spiritual starvation is the by-product of race and poverty, let me present a nightmare about the children of affluence. From 1992 to 1994, I was on the core faculty of the Oregon Governor’s School for Citizen Leadership (OGS)...The students were predominately white and middle-class.

"One of the exercises we would conduct with them was 'Stand Up If . . .' On a purely voluntary basis, participants were asked to stand up if certain statements were true of them. Among the items was 'Stand up if you have either attempted or seriously contemplated suicide.'

"Consistently, 60 percent of the students would stand up. They wanted to kill themselves. Why would these mostly middle-class kids attempt or consider suicide? As children of material affluence, they are told they have everything this society can provide. But they are still hungry. So they incorrectly surmise that something must be terribly wrong with them. Or they choose to leave a society that seems to have nothing else to offer... They want connection and instead get materiality. They want meaning and instead get a life devoid of cultural and spiritual richness, a life ripped free of context—historical, social, spiritual, communal… America’s middle-class children face spiritual starvation on a mass scale.”

It's not just our children who are starving.

So maybe we're not ready to sell our souls on eBay or throw ourselves in front of a fast moving train, but at some point in our lives—probably more than once—we will face some form of hardship and intense life challenge. And while I am not suggesting a course of pounding people over the head with our religion, I do believe there is a quiet, gentle way of influencing others by looking first within and shoring-up our own faith.  After all, believing in a higher power and actually surrendering to it are entirely different things.

Be the change you wish to see in the world.

~Gandhi

Opportunities surround us everyday to practice faith and surrender in our lives, especially with the small stuff, which prepares us for the greater challenges.  And perhaps in so doing, we will send a calming, healing energy into the world, like ripples in a pond.

Here are some ideas to start:

1. When faced with a challenge, set-back or great difficulty, STOP SPINNING. Take a few deep breaths and remind yourself of at least one time in your life where you have overcome a seemingly insurmountable obstacle or survived a tragedy. Consider the source of your strength and how you made it through your ordeal. Follow that thought with a memory of a good time that came later. Look for the lesson.  Remember, you are strong; you've already worked through many challenges in your life. In every instance you have a choice in how you react to the problem.

2. Stay calm when possible and ground yourself. Seek sound, practical advice before making any hasty decisions. Get clear about what you need to do; stay alert and aware of all that is happening around you. Remember that love engages; fear reacts.

3. Connect with the comforting rhythm of a routine; yes, even in the midst of difficulty. Think about Imaculee in that tiny little bathroom with 6 other Tutsi women for more than 90 days. Even though she was hiding for her life, she still devoted herself to prayer, meditation and studying her French-English translations rather than surrendering to the fearful mind. Especially in difficult times, routine can bring peace and help us feel as if we have some command of our life. Eat nutritious meals whenever possible, take care of your hair and skin, exercise, sleep, pray, meditate, read books that inspire, and believe in good times to come.

4. Meditate on the image of a lion; contemplate his strength as you connect with your own spiritual strength—life-giving and eternal—radiating out from your heart like the energy of the sun itself.

5.  Be gentle with yourself.  As the saying goes, Everything will be okay in the end.  If it's not okay, it's not the end. (Unknown)

And as you move through the world, be ever mindful of the true value of Life and the precious liquid of your soul:  PRICELESS. . .

The Alchemy of Love

All changes, even the most longed for,
have their melancholy;

for what we leave behind is part of ourselves;

we must die to one life before we can enter into another.

~Anatole France

Awakening to the Dream. © 2009 by Melissa Johnson.
___________________

Consider a snake molting her skin. She’s already produced new skin; it’s under the old stuff, but she’s got to get rid of it before she can get on with the business of being a snake in new skin. Still, the old stuff is holding her back from slithering around in all her snake glory. So she finds a rock or other hard surface and beats her head against it until she can break the skin, tearing it just enough to get some rollback action going; then she rubs and rubs and rubs against that rock until the old skin completely peels off, turning inside out.  In this she finds her freedom.

Transformation is serious business. When things aren’t working for us or we’ve outgrown our skin—when we hear the mysterious call to step into the unknown—we’re challenged to trade all that we are for what we might become. Yet in our restricted state, sometimes we can’t get the depth and breadth of vision to see where we're going.  With little more than faith in the process of Life, we’re urged to surrender even as we stand burning in the fire of change.  And that can be painful, like beating your head against a rock.

Change is the law of life.

And those who look only to the past or the present

are certain to miss the future.

~John F. Kennedy

It has been said that the vast majority of what we are is impossible to see or touch, and that our willingness to transform—to move beyond our FORM into something greater—is the key to having a quality life. There’s no question that we’ll experience change, for it is the only part of life that's certain. But whether we relax into our change and use our energy to help shape the outcome of our path, or fight it every step of the way, well, therein lies the choice. 

Perhaps that's why they say:

Struggle is sometimes necessary but always optional.

As for the snake, she simply does what’s in her nature to do; she follows the call of her Creator—from somewhere deep within her DNA—and sheds that skin, moving through change without resistance. Can you imagine a snake refusing to molt?  “No, I don’t want to shed my skin. I don’t care if it’s dry and cracked and restricting my movement. I don’t care if it chokes the life out of me. You can’t make me shed!”  Absurd?  You bet.

Yet as humans, many of us resist every step of the way. We become so attached to our bodies, possessions and ideas about the way things should be—so connected to our wounds, our anger, our fear—that we cling to what we know instead of shedding our metaphorical skin.  And in so doing, we deprive ourselves and the world of all that we could become.

Nelson Mandela came to a similar conclusion. During his 27 years in prison—locked up for his activism against the unjust laws of apartheid—he had a lot of time to contemplate his life and the many battles he fought to secure basic human rights for his people.  He read the biographies of those he admired, the people who had done the most for humanity, and he discovered that their success came down to a basic mindset—how a person handles hardship and disaster.  Does it transform or destroy?

Mandela said that his jailers had taken the best years of his life; that he didn’t get to see his children grow up. They had abused him mentally and physically, and they destroyed his marriage. But despite this, Mandela would not let himself live in anger, because he would not let them take his mind and heart… Mandela insists that if you want to achieve your goals in life, you cannot afford to engage in anger and you cannot waste your life fighting with the enemy. You rather want to create the conditions in which you can move everybody toward your goals. Mandela did this in 1995 when he gave his support to the predominately white Rugby team—a potent symbol of the former apartheid regime—engineering a massive shift in white public opinion.  [Nelson Mandela, A Life in Photographs, text by John D. Battersby.]

Like Mandela, I find that the greatest change agents are alchemists of love.  It doesn’t take an extraordinary person to do this; it only takes an ordinary person committed to positive change, doing unique and  extraordinary things in the face of adversity.

Ultimately, I believe that our ability to transmute the poisons of our negative emotions and life experiences into higher states of awareness is the process through which we reach wholeness; this is our path to freedom.  Remember the Law of Energy—it can neither be created nor destroyed, it simply changes form.  What kind of alchemist are you?   

As you move through intense periods of growth and change, ask yourself:

1.  What are the lessons and gifts of my challenge?

2.  Am I fighting myself and others? How can I relax my resistance to this process?

3.  What is my best path forward?  How can I maintain inner peace through this transition?

4.  Am I operating from love or fear?  Consider:

Where love creates, fear destroys.

Where love empowers, fear oppresses.

Where love expands, fear restricts.

Where love inspires, fear coerces.

Where love sees opportunity, fear sees loss and entitlement.

Where love seeks to understand, fear demands to be understood.

Where love says "How may I serve?"

Fear says, "What have you done for me lately?"

Whatever the changes, connect with the quiet wisdom of your heart; for there in the stillness is the way.

Awakening to Peace

Until the philosophy that holds one race superior

and another inferior,
is finally and permanently discredited and abandoned,
Everywhere is war…
Until the color of a man’s skin is of no more significance
than the color of his eyes—
Me say war…
That until that day the dream of lasting peace,
World citizenship…rule of international morality
Will remain but a fleeting illusion to be pursued,

but never attained—
Now everywhere is war…
~Bob Marley, War

United by One. (c) 2009.

When the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize was awarded to President Obama, I was stunned by the uproar that ensued. People came out of the woodwork—Right and Left—criticizing the committee’s decision to give the award to a man “who has done nothing to deserve” the prestigious honor of Nobel laureate. Into the media fire went outrageous justifications and commentary. Some argued the Prize was already “damaged goods” because of its prior award to the likes of Yasser Arafat and Mikhail Gorbachev. Others rallied behind the many unsung heroes passed over for the Prize and suggested that President Obama decline the award. While others pulled the race card, alleging affirmative action as the basis for his recognition.

I think some people just like to complain. To these critics I say, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE FOR WORLD PEACE?

From its inception, the Nobel Prize was intended to honor those who have “done the most or the best work for fraternity between nations, for the abolition or reduction of standing armies and for the holding and promotion of peace congresses.” True, there are many organizations and people out there fighting the good fight, striving for peace and social justice around the world--all deserving of recognition. But in this five-person committee’s unanimous opinion, President Obama’s diplomacy and willingness to engage crucial conversations between warring nations is a promise of peace and progress for us all.

For the first time in a long time people around the world are inspired by what America’s new leadership represents. In this, we’ve pinned our hopes, fears and expectations on one man. What an enormous burden to carry—one that demands attention every day. Yet rather than sitting on the sidelines, waiting for someone else to bring peace to our world, I suggest we do our part by looking within, for that is where true peace begins.

Chinese philosopher Lao-tzu once said, “If there is to be peace in the world, there must be peace in the nations… in the cities…between neighbors...in the home...and in the heart.” Even 25 centuries ago he recognized a level of personal responsibility that we all share in bringing about a peaceful world—one that requires individuals to tend the gardens of their hearts and minds. I believe Lao-tzu is right, for how can we expect to bring about universal peace and understanding in a world filled with so many different people, places, religions, philosophies and ideas about what’s right and wrong, when we can’t even get beyond our own personal biases and judgments towards each other, not to mention the harsh judgments we unleash at ourselves.

I’ve often wondered why it’s so hard to soften our hearts towards those different from us, or with whom we’ve experienced conflict. Universally, I think it boils down to the vulnerability it demands and the ego’s fearful need to be right. Yet as I watch the events of the world unfold – war, economic failings, environmental disasters, and horrific crimes against humanity that should have long been abolished – I can’t help but feel that we’ve got it all wrong.

I read this story once about a lady who called herself “Peace Pilgrim.” In 1952 she became the first woman to walk the entire length of the Appalachian Trail in one season. Shortly after that she began her walk for peace – vowing to “remain a wanderer until mankind has learned the way of peace…” For almost three decades she walked back and forth across the United States, with no money and only the clothes on her back, walking more than 25,000 miles before her death. She was fascinated that her needs were always met. “Aren’t people good…,” she would say.

She spoke to anyone who would listen about the big peace picture: Peace among nations, peace among groups, and the all important inner peace because she, like Lao-tzu, believed that was where world peace began. In the course of her pilgrimage she touched the lives of thousands of people with her message, and many of them inspired her as well.

I love the story she tells of a small, remote village she visited where she found a group of people with a unique way of dealing with conflict. When a person in the village violated the natural laws or had intense conflict with another, the villagers would gather in the town center, forming a circle around the offender, and one by one they would recount every good deed, kindness and contribution to the community made by that person. There was no punishment, finger pointing or harsh judgment, only kindness. And as a result, their community thrived without the need for jails or local police. Generally, they had very little conflict among them.

Doesn’t that sound nice—a peaceful world that works for everyone? We’ve got a long way to go, for sure; but what a beautiful state to aspire to. And it starts with you and me. Sure, there are those that can’t see the big picture, stuck in their evil, power, greed and oppression. We must not let their bad behavior serve as justification for our own. We must not look away because change feels difficult or hopeless. Those who can see the world with broader vision must. 

We owe it to ourselves to look up and out into the world and ask the important questions: How may I serve? Am I keeping my side of the street clean? What can I do to help rather than hinder progress and peace? For I believe that when we pull ourselves out of the quicksand of mindless living, petty judgment and self-righteousness—instead, focusing on what is good and just and doing all we can to promote compassion and peace—we, too, will inspire a better and brighter future not just for ourselves and our families but for all of humanity . . . the only “race” that matters.

And you, Mr. President--I urge you to honor your commitment to world peace and human understanding even in the bloodiest of regions; even in the face of adversity and criticism. For the road to peace will not be found through war.

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By Melissa Johnson