Sumpin' Witty

Practicing Peace  And Why It’s Not Always Peaceful   Just about two weeks ago I went to Fullerton, California to visit family. After living in Costa Rica for the past eleven years, trips “home” don’t hit the same as they used to. It’s not necessarily better or worse, but the longer I live in Costa Rica, the further away I feel from that version of me who grew up in California. Of course, I’m no longer the same person who lived in California, nor am I the same person who moved to Puerto Viejo a decade and some change ago. And one of the things I noticed this time around, in addition to all of the other differences—some almost imperceptible or hard to put into words, others screaming in my face the entire trip—is how much more peaceful my life is here. And I’m not saying that people in the United States don’t live peaceful lives, I’m sure a great many do—I hope a great many do. My life there was not peaceful, and had I stayed, perhaps I would have committed to practicing peace t...

Each moment is like a grain of sand. Broken glass and sea shells, coral and pieces of life lived. It sits on the shore, just waiting to be touched, waiting for us to touch it. Each moment of our lives is just a piece of sand, coming together to make up the shore of our whole existence. And if we let it, it can start to bury us, to consume us. It can make us rough, covered from the warmth of the sun, hidden under the mass amounts of experiences we have to live. I'm working on letting go. I'm working on walking away from things that no longer serve me. I'm working on letting memories be memories, letting them be what they were, but leaving them in the past. Good memories and bad memories, and horrible ones, and wonderful ones, because if we carry all of them with us, if we try to hold on to each piece of sand, we won't have any room left for new ones. If you allow each grain of sand to cling to you, eventually you'll become heavy, weighed down. because ...