Let All Around Us Be Peace

This weekend I officially signed a contract for the sale of my house in Leavenworth. It’s a lovely place … the semi-secluded location with a field behind the back yard, five large oak trees, and a wooded area/creek at the end of the cul-de-sac exuded a sense of peace. The paint on the outside of the house was even called “Peace Yellow.” It was a gift to live there for four years, and it feels bittersweet to let it go. Still, as the poet Ludwig Jacobowski said, “Don’t cry because it’s over; smile because it happened.”

Grieving our losses is necessary and important, but gratitude for what has been is key to moving on. The solitude I experienced in that house was what I needed at the time, but then I was called to grow in a new direction and learn the lessons that come with living in community.

It is also important to recognize the fine line between grieving and clinging. Ronald Rolheiser has noted, “By clinging to what once was we cannot recognize God’s presence within a new reality.” The birds sang sweetly and I felt a sense of peace at my house, but I can hear birdsong and feel at peace at the Mount—not by stepping out onto my back deck, true, but by walking in the cemetery and the woods and gardens located on the grounds at the back of the monastery. In addition, I can recognize God’s presence in the new reality of voices blending together in the chapel and conversing at the dinner table.

It’s time for the house in Leavenworth to be a blessing for my friend who is buying it and will now dwell there. Peace before us, peace behind us, peace under our feet—peace within us, peace over us, let all around us be peace.