I think of how hard it is to cultivate peace within. We stir up around this, and then, that. What is it to settle into the deep inner flame of peace?
We've been enjoying a fire each night. I sit and watch the flames, light candles to reinforce the power of fire, fire large or small.
Tenderness lives inside me these days, tender nibbles of wanting to understand and then knowing I have to let that wanting go, and just be, like flakes of snow that may melt, or gather together in strength. We made snowmen when I was a child, and sometimes, a snow fort. We'd toss snowballs back and forth. We had our teams, those inside the fort, and those out. I think of that now, wanting a world that doesn't need forts, and yet, a raccoon keeps making its ways inside our downstairs, tearing apart each barrier I erect. Do I accept, or become a little more cunning in saying that the inside of my house is for those I choose, including my cats, which does not mean Mr. or Mrs. Raccoon is also welcome inside. I know the raccoon doesn't understand since doors stood open in the summer, and it's clear he or she went in and out. Does it matter? I don't really know. All is so peaceful right now, so quiet as I look out on sun and pyracantha berries still turning to ripe.
We saw the movie Trumbo on Sunday. I recommend it. Trumbo was an inspiring man, a man to follow and admire, especially in these times when groups of people are labeled and maligned. See Trumbo, and let peace roll through your portals and entries today.
What is there to cultivate within? A place for the elements to rest, and if those elements include a raccoon, well, then, consider what it is to be cold and hungry and wear a mask.