“where in the world is peace?” … gulf of mexico

Peace is a week without making one “to-do” list.  It’s dolphins playing, pelicans diving, herons dining and waves lapping. A book, some paints, some cards, some laughs, and gratitude for the peace we discovered on a beautiful island off Florida’s west Gulf Coast.

Where to next?

(ps:  you can see all “where in the world is peace?” images on our “where in the world is peace?” page. Our book is on Amazon, our totes, mugs and things are available here. Please email your own pictures to 52weeksofpeace@gmail.com or post them on our FaceBook page. Let’s see where peace goes!)

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Swimming with Mermaids

My daughter saw a mermaid once. Although that’s not the sort of thing one goes around telling just anybody, I truly believe her. I haven’t seen one myself, but I happen to know a lot about them. :  ) I think, in fact, that I may have been one in another life, which may explain why swimming came so easily to me ~ who knows.

Who knows anything, really. It’s a big universe out there, full of surprises and wisdoms and puzzling arrangements of scientific particles, and things we don’t even know that we don’t know anything about, not even a tiny morsel.

In some ways, many ways actually, life’s a mystery ~ and we get to play in it, muck around in it and mess it up and try to make it right. And try to enjoy it. Make it less an exercise in futility, and more an experience of joy, a journey of discovery and meaning, a lovely ride.

So I’m taking some much (much) needed time (did I say how much?) to un-plug and practice just being for a little while. I wish it were longer ~ in my opinion, time off should be a minimum of 2 weeks, preferably 4 ~ but one does the best they can. Rejuvenate, as they say. It’s a time to do as the spirit moves, and only that. Which includes, of course, some swimming with mermaids.

See you next week sometime. Have some good journeying while I’m gone.

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A Plethora of P’s / #61: Posies

proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.

– ♥ –

“And I will make thee beds of roses / And a thousand fragrant posies.”

From Christopher Marlowe’s “The Passionate Shepherd To His Love”. The full poem, below, was published posthumously in 1599 – Marlowe died in 1593.

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.

The shepherds’ swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

…………..

If not inspired to write of love, one should at least enjoy the beauty of flowers as often as possible. Maybe pick some wildflowers to brighten up your dinner table, or hand some to a friend (or a stranger) ~ just because.  And if nothing else, do stop to “smell the roses” now and again.  Spirits are lifted, senses are massaged, hearts are happier. What a gift posies are!

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Bold & Daring? or A Little Nuts?

The way I see it, if I can’t be in Tuscany, I might as well bring a little Tuscany here.

Of course, indecision reared its head as I thought about using this color on my kitchen walls for a couple years before buying the paint. And then, even then, I had a moment’s hesitation. Not only for the color ~ although the concern was real, if temporary (because at some point you just have to go for something brilliantly unexpected and risk regret) ~ but for the act of painting. Give me a blank canvas any day! But interior wall painting isn’t high on my list of fun things to do in my (very rare) spare time.

Oh sure, once you’ve got your tools, cleared the space, cleaned up the walls, taped the edges, painted the corners and are finally (!) ready to swish the rollers into the paint tray and swab the walls with long strokes of color, it’s not so bad.

But then there are second coats, sometimes thirds, and dabbing your messes up along the way, and the light changing, and other duties calling so that the disarray hangs around too long.

Once all that is done, and the room put back together (including the opportunity to toss all those crafty things that’ve been lurking in deceivingly tidy plastic containers under the bench…last used how many years ago?), you can indeed feel good. Satisfied at making a fresh, bold change. Happy you were nuts enough to try it. And glad it’s over!

I’m not over yet though…. so back to it before the light changes……..

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52 Weeks of Peace [squared]: Week #73 / Music on the Beach

When I was a kid, the crowded beaches seemed to have as many transistor radios as people. From almost every towel and beach chair, New York’s WABC blasted all the top hits…. over and over. Sometimes the biggest hits even got “instant replay” status.

The energy of all this was fun ~ the first 2 or 3 times. It didn’t take long to discover I much preferred almost any beach to these, which were (are still are) popular by virtue of proximity to civilization and a ride-and-game-filled boardwalk.

So I had a mini-meltdown the other day when visiting one of our favorite beaches, with its sprawling stretches of white sand, no commercial riff-raff and one couple who apparently felt that everyone else would appreciate their blaring radio.

I’ll even admit that the song playing at the time of my breakdown was one I kind of liked. But I didn’t want to hear it then, nor the constant noise that would inevitably flow from the little box under their umbrella for the next who-knows-how-many hours.

No. Not acceptable.

I go to the beach for the sand, sun and surf. I like to hear the seagulls squawking, the waves tumbling, the caps of suntan lotion being flicked up and down. I like to see the shells that wash ashore, let my feet get buried by the tide going in and out. I like to dive under the waves, and float on their tops. I like the expansive sky, ships on the horizon, fishermen fishing, even children squealing with delight or building a castle moat.

The pleasures of being at the shore do not include hearing the top 40, or any other choice played at everyone else’s mercy. If you can’t enjoy the beach without it, then at the very least have the courtesy of turning down the volume. (Way down, please.) Or, gosh, how about an iPod? Hello?

So I packed us up and moved as far down the beach as possible, where the intrusive radio could not be heard. And there, I found ~ and made ~ peace. Blessed peace. All was not lost.

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52 Weeks of Peace [squared] / Week #72

52 Weeks of Peace [squared]: Week 72 / “Peace Doodle” / © Patricia Saxton

Because peace can be spontaneous and frivolous and fluid and “unfinished”… a little rough around the edges, a bit overworked in some spots, underworked in others; add some color here, some color there. Kind of like life, and art, and people ~ peace is a work in progress.

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Kenya Inspired

Me, Relaxing

Thought I’d share a few paintings that came out of my Kenyan experience several years back. More haunt my mind and lurk in my paintbrushes, but there are so many paintings to paint and so little time…

Kenyan Landscape / 5’X7′ / © Patricia Saxton

Flower Lady / 4’X4′ / © Patricia Saxton

Kenyan Plains / 9X12″ / © Patricia Saxton

And here’s me, capturing great shots. Looking younger too. Ah… Hakuna Matata.

Me, Captivated

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Maasai Gold

Just when I think my enthusiasm for the Olympics might be waning, something happens that fires me up.

Of course, just witnessing what the human body is capable of is pretty incredible. It runs faster, jumps higher year after year. Being a swimmer myself, I’m always especially riveted by the swimming ~ and the superhuman Michael Phelps just plants a big smile on my face. The very watchable, adorable gymnast Gabby Douglas was amazing, and the volleyball looks like tons of fun. The background stories of so many of these champions ~ and they are all champions ~ are fascinating. Even the commercials are good. (The Superbowl should take note.) Then came track and Usain Bolt, who continued to wow us. The women runners were equally fabulous, and then I thought I’d seen, well …enough.

But I happened to turn on the tube when the men’s 800 meter race was about to start, tuning in just as they were telling the story of Kenyan runner David Rudisha, and my heart smiled again.

I have a thing for Kenya, you see. I must have had some wonderful experience there in another life, because in this one, even as a child, it was one of the places I truly, truly wanted to see. The first line of “Out of Africa” always felt strangely familiar; making the call grow stronger. In 1990, I made that dream come true.

Let me just say that seeing giraffes in the wild melted my heart. Sleeping to the sound of hippos and the distant growls of cats; elephants walking up to my camera lens, ballooning over the Maasai Mara……  I absolutely loved it. We also met some wonderful people, among them members of the Samburu tribe, cousins to the Maasai. Same great height, stature and grace. Warm spirits, beautiful smiles, colorfully attired ~ and holy moly can they jump high. Their athleticism is undeniable … and so, I adored hearing David Rudisha’s story. (How can you not be good when you build your own track in the hard African dirt?) Then I cheered him on, yelling at the tv, clapping, woo-hooing.

I want to go back to Kenya, very much. But for now, it was a little thrill to watch this Maasai make his mark in the history books, the first of his tribe to win gold in the Olympics ~ and doing it with the flourish of new world record time.

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A Plethora of P’s / #60: Practice

proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.

– ♥ –

“Practice makes perfect”. Or at least it makes for better. And better. And better. If you want to be proficient, you’ve got to plod on, persist, persevere, pursue and practice, practice, practice ~ and in the process come to know satisfaction and personal pride, and in the end, who knows how prolific you might become… and when you do, how glad you’ll be for having practiced your little heart out.

(And oh-by-the-way, the target’s always moving, so you’re never done……. but the good news is that it simply becomes a natural part of creating a better you. It’s never too late. So practice on!)

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