One of my outdoor Christmas decorations is a sign proclaiming ‘Peace on Earth’. Can we even imagine it anymore? We face challenges to our personal peace often and sometimes even multiple times in a day. How then are we to believe that world peace is possible? But the alternative is not one I can allow into my life for very long. I have to believe it is possible. But how and where do we each fit into this peace puzzle? We each have a different shape and it is only together that we create the complete picture. I am participating in Tara Brach’s 40 Day Meditation challenge. It is only day 7 and I can already access serenity more easily. I am able to pull on the lessons, not perfectly, not always, but enough to give me hope. I am an avid believer in the greater consciousness and now I am part of the many others who are on this meditation journey with me. The more peaceful I am the more I bring that calm energy to everyone I encounter. We have a high school senior SILENT retreat at The Port this week. Hmm, high school seniors committing to 4 days of silence---sit with that for a moment. In silence:)

Many of us have struggled with the societal, political, and familial divisions so vividly confronting us regularly. And we wonder how will these factions come together. I do not have the answer but what I did notice was that as a respected colleague shared her new perspective on what is important to her. A view, quite divergent from my own. I was able to listen and I think hear her, not completely without judgement but with more compassion than I would have had 8 days ago. I am thinking of putting that ‘Peace on Earth’ sign back out. I can be the crazy lady on the block with the Christmas décor that stays out all year. I think I will enjoy that. My friends, there are so many books, classes, podcasts, retreats available for each of us. Find what softens or sharpens your edges so you fit into this peace puzzle the world needs.

Take care, Mary Lou Nugent

PRACTICALLY DIVINE

BECCA STEVENS

We are made of stardust, oceans, and dirt.

Knit together in the secret place,

Woven from the depths of the earth,

We are a little less than angels, practically divine.

We are both poetic, like drops of dew

Catching sunlight and throwing rainbows.

We grow up, curious as wild cubs

Howling at night,

Hearing distant laments that echo our longing.

We are raised to scan clouds for signs

Then told to plant our feet in soil.

In youth we are expectant as acorns,

Holding hundred-year-oaks in our belly.

In parenting we are as practical as hyenas,

Serving up feasts from leftovers.

In old age we transform from nymph to dragonfly

Flapping translucent wings, hovering on puffs of hope.

We are made in love, then take on flesh and bone

That grounds us like a broken wing on a hawk.

Our voices raise in praise and petition

For our transient green valley.



We hew a life from sweat blended with old earth.

We are practically divine,

Almost and just enough.