A Gift Of Peace

July 5, 2020


In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

 

The acrid smell of cordite still hangs in the air this morning. Dennis mentioned that General Patton once commented that he loved the smell of cordite in the morning. Turns out he didn’t. But many others have. We don’t live in a war zone, but it sure sounded like it last night. Dennis said it was more intense and prolonged than what he experienced in Viet Nam. In our rural and wooded neighborhood, much of what people exploded last night is not legal.

I have a great uncle buried in Flanders Field. The poem is one I memorized in seventh grade. And it came to mind last night amid the explosions. I was thinking about the birds including the owl who was yesterday a source of great concern for other birds. I was thinking about our resident dear and her two fawns, who are actually just now walking the path from the meadow to within fifteen feet of my office as I write this. I was thinking about the trees and the plants and all living beings who were being subjected to the noise and explosive shock waves.

So I went outside to sit with the Earth energies here at MossTerra. I had been holding the energy of peace for our dog and cat who, over the years, have come to a remarkable place of calm with these explosive rituals. As I sat with the Earth I felt that strong and palpable presence of peace emanate from me. And as I felt the energy flow through the landscape for a few minutes there were no explosions. A gentle and calm quiet. This will pass. You are safe. You are loved.

Every day Dennis and I express our deep gratitude for the blessing that is MossTerra. This beautiful and wild landscape. We receive so much. So many gifts. Perhaps last night I was able to give something back. A gift of peace.

Beannacht,
Judith – judith@stonefires.com

7 thoughts on “A Gift Of Peace

  1. I sadly figured that the cancelled shows would be made up for, so to speak, with people buying fireworks and loosing them. The thing is that these people wouldn’t know what they were doing, and they would be doing it not in a park or some kind of open space–rather backyards and alleys. We could give up the fireworks for a year (or more), and the nation would remain a nation. I’m happy you could be with the animals and your place.

  2. Thanks for this – it was much the same in our neighborhood and I wondered what that was all about….and there was no place to go outside and sit quietly in our suburban neighborhood. I have gone about the streets picking up the detritus as my gift. It is hard not to be angry and filled with judgement.

    • And curiously enough it was quiet last night. Only a few fireworks in the distance. Seemed like they needed to get it all out at once. Yes. There seems little respect for the natural world, PTSD veterans (like Dennis), and cleaning up the mess. Anger is a good thing. Signals that something is wrong.

  3. Beautiful.

    I also thought about the birds and animals and plants last night as the night boomed and the air filled with a smoky tinge, even in my suburban neighborhood. I wish I had gone out and done what you did; I felt besieged myself as much of it was very close neighbors, but perhaps the yard and I might have comforted each other.

    thanks, Anne

    >

    • And of course you still can do this. Besieged is the perfect word. For the explosions of fireworks…and the explosions of anger and hate. We hold the energy of peace. That is our work. Much love!

  4. Transmuting trauma into life-force energy of peace — thank you. On a resonant note a whale that usually would live in the deep waters of the North atlantic landed in a nearby harbour distressed, died shortly after. It ended up in a friend trailer to be taken for a post mortem. It seems it suffered from acoustic trauma and couldn’t orient itself… have been bathing its Spirit – so a great big fat yes to returning to Peace – to Great Mother. to life on behalf of life.

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