PEACE IS A COURAGEOUS ACT

There's a place in our house that I return to over and over again when life seems overwhelming. When the events of the world or the space within the walls in which we live are just too much for me to bear. This particular room is small, dark unless intentionally illuminated, and quiet. I generally find myself curled up on the floor, forehead pressed firmly into the carpet beneath. This is the place where I cry out to the benevolent God I so often can't understand. My prayers come out as cascading sobs, angry release, and desperate pleas which all seem to culminate in a stillness so still it seems irreverent to breathe.

More and more of the world is being lit with holy places for me. The more I seek, the more I'm able to find thin spaces. Places where heaven and earth settle into this divine dance so subtle it's easy to miss yet so immeasurably powerful it's life changing. In these holy expanses or momentary pauses in time, the beauty is almost too forceful for my body to hold. I begin to understand what it means to collapse in the presence of God.

So there's these moments.

And then there's moments that send me to my closet, stunned with fear and grief and pain.

The recent news has been riddled with a story of hate and violence and prejudice and death. It's too much to hold. Too much to carry. Too much.

And so I collapse at the feet of The Magnificent and I plead for courage and love and forgiveness. I beg for hope and for peace - for me, for you, for all. I allow the pain in - the fear, the grief. I let it do its work in me. I cry for us all but I also cry for all of those places tucked within my body and soul that harbor prejudice and hate, fear and grief unexpressed.

I let it out.

Because if I don't let out these malevolent thoughts and feelings, they grow. Subtly over time they expand and push and begin to take over. They begin to color the way in which I see the world and people. And then one day a small, seemingly insignificant thing flips the switch and unleashes a furious storm.

But I let it out. I say all the vicious, cruel things I hold inside. I admit my fears and angers and observed injustice. I yell and scream and rant and cry. I release it all. Every last thing within me and then I collapse into the arms of Grace. Into the protective lap of The One who created me and calls me tov, good.

I let peace wash over me, compassion fill me. And then I get up, wipe my nose and eyes, drink some water and open the door.

I let the light in and then I go out.

This is my act of peace. This is my response to that which I can't control and understand.

Grace. Hope. Peace. Love. Compassion. Courage. Forgiveness. Surrender.

These are the weapons I choose.

Rather than responding to fear and violence with fear and violence, I work to accept them as teachers. As instruments that can tear me open, refine and remold me, and stitch me back up again - stronger, deeper, more whole. And then I turn all this energy towards healing and peace-making, using the unique gifts I've been given.

I paint. I meditate and practice yoga. I teach. I write. I raise my kids to bring sunshine and beauty to the world with determination and endurance. I cook. I look into the eyes of the people I meet and I smile. I get my hands dirty with the goodness of earth. I paddle board and swim and play games. I laugh and cry and celebrate this breath right now. I show up in the lives of those I care for most in the ways I'm able. I walk in the grass and water and sand. I snuggle and read to my girls. I enjoy time with my husband. I eat outside and dance in the rain. I swing and watch the clouds.

I do whatever I can to cultivate peace in me, hoping it flows out to those around. And then I surrender to The One, the ultimate provider of peace.

May you find a space to call holy. A space where you find yourself face down, confronting the depths of your being. And may you have the courage to go in. To go in, get messy, do the uncomfortable and painful work necessary to release and to grow.

And may you emerge alight with the power of peace.

Namaste*, friends.

*Namaste means the Light in me sees and honors the Light in you.

PEACE-KEEPING AND PAN-FRIED PAPRIKA SALMON with quinoa and herbs

Beirut. Burundi. Paris. And untold, unacknowledged places across the globe.

Recent events have reminded me we live in a world full of humans and we humans have a powerful opportunity with every breath we take to poke holes in our world. These pinpricks can either offer us a glance into a parallel universe filled with beauty and hope and love and compassion and eternal grace or a devastating view into death and destruction and pain and heartache and loneliness and loss.

It's crushing when the latter is chosen.

I'm convinced the only way to respond to violence is to grieve deeply and then do the work of cultivating peace in our own souls. To find beauty and worth and truth in whatever takes our days from normal to holy. To invest ourselves in that which leads us to encounter the divine. To find whatever allows us to smile more honestly, to look deeply into the eyes of a stranger and find our own stories there, to pause within the course of a day and say "thank you" - to tap into whatever this is daily and give ourselves fully to this work of peace-making.

I paint for peace.

I practice yoga for peace.

I giggle and laugh and walk in the grass and breathe with intention for peace.

These are my tangible, flesh and earth and life prayers for peace.

These are the things that allow me to look into the eyes of the person behind the counter and smile with authenticity. These are the things that give me the grace to wave at daily unkindness and see a lonely, exhausted, and hurt person instead of cruelty. To acknowledge that I've been there too, I've felt that way too, I've acted out of those places too.

I don't know how I would handle what has happened across the ocean. I hope I never have to find out. My heart breaks for those who have lost so much. Here's what I do know: I can't solve all things, especially these big, global things. But I can do the work within that brings freedom and forgiveness and peace. And maybe, just maybe, that's enough.

May you find whatever fills you with joy and creativity and life, and with each moment know that when you take the time to entertain this thing you do, you are cultivating peace in this world. 







This dish is a mainstay in our house. Full of healthy fats, protein, vitamins, minerals, and beneficial bacteria, my kids and I try to get this in at least once a week. We mix up the grain and flavors, Indian-spiced rice [in lieu of quinoa], Chinese 5-spice [instead of paprika], and parsley or cilantro [rather than dill] being another favorite.  

[THE RECIPE]

Serves 2

2 wild caught Alaskan salmon fillets
1 - 2 T. ghee or pure, extra-virgin coconut oil
sea salt
sweet paprika
smoked paprika
1 c. uncooked quinoa, rinsed
2 c. water
1 c. fresh herbs like dill, parsley, cilantro
1/4 c. raw sauerkraut
1 avocado

Place uncooked quinoa in a fine mesh strainer and rinse under cold water until water runs clear. Put rinsed quinoa into a medium size sauce pan and add water and a pinch of sea salt. Cover and bring to boil over high heat. As soon as the water boils, reduce heat to low and cook covered until all of the water has been absorbed [approximately 7 - 10 minutes]. Once the water has been absorbed, remove from heat and let sit for 5 minutes.

While quinoa is cooking, drain salmon fillets and pat dry. Sprinkle each filet with a generous amount of sea salt, sweet paprika, and smoked paprika. Set aside.

Heat ghee or coconut oil in a small cast iron skillet or stainless steel pan that has a cover. Once melted, the ghee or oil should thoroughly cover the bottom of the pan. Once the ghee or oil is just beginning to sizzle, carefully place fillets skin side up in the pan. Cover immediately and let cook on medium-high heat for 3 - 5 minutes. Remove from heat and let sit, covered, for an additional minute or so. Gently remove skin if desired and discard [great for compost!].

Arrange cubed avocado, fresh herbs, sauerkraut and cooked quinoa on a plate. Place salmon on quinoa, drizzle with a little olive oil if desired, and sprinkle with sea salt.