I have come to realize that there will never
be peace on Earth.
Even though Sister Balthazar taught us how
to sing “Let There Be Peace on Earth” back in kindergarten.
The history of mankind suggests otherwise.
Blacks and whites have
spent generations fighting over race. The Irish and English have centuries of
bad blood between them. The Polish and Germans, China and Japan, Turkey and
Greece, India and Pakistan, Russia and Ukraine and Islam against everyone.
Different countries. Different religions.
Different centuries.
Same old hatred.
History books will continue to write
chapters devoted to war.
The
next line in that song Sister Balthazar taught us all those years ago is the
one that matters the most.
“And let it begin with me.”
That is the part I have come to understand
through my life.
Peace has to begin with me. Not Trump or
Putin. Not Netanyahu or Ayatollah Assaholla. It begins with the fat kid from
Edgewater.
Before I can bring peace into the world, I
need to make peace with John Shepley, and that has not always been the easiest
thing to accomplish.
I have spent sixty years getting to know him.
His shortcomings, his mistakes, his regrets, his triumphs, and the occasional
good decision.
Somewhere along the way, I have come to
realize that making peace with yourself doesn't mean pretending you haven't
made mistakes along the way.
It means accepting that you have, learning from them, and getting on with living.
Peace begins in my heart, grows in my home,
trickles down to the Shepkids, and follows me around town.
I need to be the guy who brings a little
peace to the people who cross my path.
Sometimes peace is nothing more than a
kind smile, a firm handshake, or handing a shopping cart to someone at Aldi.
Peace also means making certain that the jagoff
turning into the Jewels parking lot without using his directional has been
properly informed on the purpose of a turn signal.
I am still working on that particular
part of inner peace.
This morning, I found a little peace when
Van Halen came blasting out of the radio on Two for Tuesday.
You might as well jump, followed by a
reminder to run from the devil.
Not bad advice from
Diamond Dave before sunrise. Sometimes peace is that simple.
One of my favorite bands from my younger
days. A strong cup of coffee. A quiet moment before the rest of the world wakes
up and starts acting like the rest of the world.
Peace is easy to find. Making peace work is
another matter.
This morning, I chalked three ancient words
for peace in the grabber section.
Shlama. Shalom. Pax.
Aramaic. Hebrew. Latin.
Different languages, different
civilizations, and thousands of years of human history.
All searching for the same thing.
Maybe Sister Balthazar knew something back
in kindergarten that it has taken me sixty years to understand.
I can't bring peace to
the entire world, but I can bring a little peace to my piece of it, and maybe that is
where it all begins.
Let there be peace on Earth.
And let it begin with me.
