Peace and Love

The oldest Beatle, Ringo Starr, turned 70 years old yesterday. His requested birthday gift was for everyone to say "peace and love" at noon. Fortunately, the friend I was eating lunch with reminded me of this (however we said "peace and love" at 1 p.m.-- I don't think Ringo would mind). The AP photo above shows Ringo at Times Square's Hard Rock Cafe.

The message of "peace and love" is so very simple, yet profound. These two words describe the ideal relationship with self, others and God. Peace is not the absence of conflict but the presence of reconciliation. When we have peace in the relational sense we co-exist with others in a relationship of respect.

Love is the ultimate word to describe our deepest relationship need. We need to give love and to receive it. Without love, life atrophies and is diminished. Love is the life-blood of all relationships. By "love" I don't mean "feelings of affection" but a deep commitment to the good of the other. When we love someone, we act in their best interests even if we have to repress self-interest.

While I don't believe saying the words "peace and love" will change the world, I do believe that being committed to infusing our relationships with these realities will change us. I'm glad that Ringo once again called our attention to their importance.

Holding On and Letting Go

Two important actions in life are holding on and letting go. Much of living a fulfilling life involves learning when and how to engage in these two actions.

We learn very early in life to hold on to those we love. Reflexively, a baby will hold tightly to a finger offered. A child learning to walk naturally holds the hand of a parent. Physical holding grows into emotional holding on. At this stage of life, love involves dependence.

As a child grows, the letting go reflex also begins. Learning to walk on one's own means letting go of the safety of a parent's hand. As children grow, they become more independent-- something that parents encourage. Growing into adulthood means letting go and breaking away from parents physically, financially and emotionally.

Parents also learn to let go of their children as they grow. Sometimes this is painful emotionally. Not only is it difficult to let go of those we love, it is difficult for us to watch them make their own mistakes and suffer the consequences.

Spiritually we also learn to hold on to those persons, values and things which give our life meaning and purpose. Yet, there are also things we need to let go of such as grudges, envy, hatred and prejudice.

Two questions we need to ponder are: What do we need to hold on to in order to grow and thrive? What do we need to release in order to grow? Answering these questions takes some genuine honesty-- a willingness to look at ourselves and our relationships truthfully.

Some Like It Hot (not me)

We're in the midst of a heat wave here in the Northeast. In this part of the world a heat wave is defined as "three or more consecutive days over 90 degrees." In Texas and Arizona, three consecutive days in the 90's would be considered a cool wave!

Being an outdoors person, I am not a fan of hot and humid weather. In such weather I get much more exhausted by rowing workouts, even though we row early in the morning. Hiking in such weather isn't appealing, especially because of all of the insects that seem to thrive in the heat.

Yet, I have discovered an outdoor activity that beats the heat: kayaking. Since the water temperature in Long Island Sound is still in the 60's, paddling in a kayak is a pleasant exercise. Yesterday on my kayak excursion, there was a nice breeze that added to the pleasure.

Being in or on the water is a good way to adapt to hot weather. There is something spiritually renewing about cooling off when you're hot. A dip in the pool, a lake or an ocean is oh so refreshing. No wonder water plays a key role in religious rituals like baptism and ablutions. In these rituals water symbolizes not only cleansing, but also life and new life.

Heat waves come and go, but the renewing power of water transcends every kind of weather. Being on water, in water, and drinking water is a source of refreshment and life. What an amazing gift!

One-Third Over!

Today is July 1 and summer is 1/3 over! It's hard to believe that June passed so quickly. Paraphrasing Paul Simon, "Slow down, you move too fast. Got to make the summer last."

Time passes either slowly or quickly, depending on what we're doing. When we're bored, an hour can seem interminable. Boredom slows time down to the painful ticking of seconds off the clock. But, when were engaged in something interesting, we hardly notice the passage of time.

We know that time, as measured by clocks, passes at the same rate. But we also know that our perception of time has an internal component that can speed it up or slow it down.

In the New Testament there are two Greek words for time that capture the external and internal components of time. Chronos is the word used for "clock time" or "calendar time." The passage of chronos was constant and measured by minutes, hours, days, months and years.

The other word for time is kairos, which roughly means "at the right time" or "at the appropriate time." Kairos is internal time and can be applied to events that unfold in on their own timetable. The birth of a baby, the maturing of a person, falling in love and spiritual awakening-- these happen when they're ready to.

Kairos is also used in the New Testament for "God's timetable." In the spiritual realm, most things don't happen on a set schedule-- they happen when we are ready.

The Grace of the World

One of my favorite Wendell Berry poems, "The Peace of Wild Things," follows.

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.

Many of us find our peace in places of natural and wild beauty. Summer in particular is a season to spend some time in wild places through a hike, a boat trip or kayaking, cycling or running. Even sitting on a beach and looking out into the ocean, a pond or a lake can feed our souls.

The key is to find those places where you can "rest in the grace of the world" as Berry puts it. Such places abound if we would open our eyes to the beauty around us and within us.

In Praise of A.A.

A column by David Brooks in today's New York Times titled "Bill Wilson's Gospel" reminded me once again of the good things about Alcoholic's Anonymous. Here's the link to the article: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/29/opinion/29brooks.html?src=mv&ref=homepage.

Brooks writes, "In a culture that generally celebrates empowerment and self-esteem, A.A. begins with disempowerment. The goal is to get people to gain control over their lives, but it all begins with an act of surrender and an admission of weakness."

In other words, A.A. is counter intuitive. It is based on a paradox that is also at the heart of the Christian faith: in powerlessness is true strength. To surrender ourselves to a Higher Power is to become empowered in deep and powerful ways.

What most impresses me about A.A. is that it lays out a program to transform your soul. The byproduct of this transformation is to gain control over your addiction. Yet, the thrust of A.A. is the salvation of one's soul. The result is deep and lasting moral and spiritual changes.

The evidence of this spiritual transformation can be found in the twelfth step: to help others embark on this same spiritual path. The remarkable genius of A.A., like the genius of Christianity, is its proclamation that the way to abundant life is through weakness and powerlessness.

Above the Clouds

I spent the last night of my Machu Picchu trek at Phuyupatamarca, an Inca word meaning "place above the clouds." We camped at 11,500 feet in elevation and looked down on a cloud rain forest. The photo above is of clouds spilling over the mountaintop.

Being above or within clouds is a mystical experience. There is something magical in being close enough to clouds that you can touch them. Several of my fellow trekkers commented on how awesome it was to look down on a sea of clouds spilling over the mountains as if being poured out of a bowl.

The next morning, we hiked up to a high place to watch the sunrise on Salcantay, a sacred mountain to the Incas. Our guide had each of us take three coca leaves, say a prayer and blow on them three times. This ancient ritual was moving when framed against the first rays of light on the high, snow-capped mountains. The photo below shows what we saw.


Ancient peoples expressed gratitude and awe at the sunrise and sunset, as well as many other wonders of the natural world. There is something so right and so very human about continuing this tradition.