A Tibetan Monk had been tortured for years by the Chinese authorities. When released the Dali Lama met with the Monk. His Holiness asked the Monk if he was ever afraid during those horrific years.
"Yes," the Monk answered. "I was afraid I would stop feeling compassion for my torturers."
Peace, wherever, whenever and however we can welcome it into our hearts and our world, should never become a memory.
November 18, 2010
It was past the world's bedtime. No one was really there.
Still, the remaining countries who had waited days to speak stepped up to the podium, and in the formal shoes of a tired man or the polite heels of a fatigued woman, addressed the empty seats.
World, they said, let's give peace a chance our country is hurting your country is hurting we are all hurting there is no need for this...
If the seats could have nodded they would have and they would have made sure something was done to make it better. But instead, each word bounced and banged against walls and ceilings.
We, the scribes, though, we made sure the words didn't shatter against hard surfaces.
We, the scribes, noted stressed stated said and urged.
We, the scribes, made sure even in empty spaces peace was recorded and thus given a chance.
It started with the ladies at the pool who needed swim tips and some goggles...
And then someone said something maybe it was Karen and someone else said something else maybe it was Lorie and before you could say "Ask Anything - Free Advice" tee shirts were made and you know when you make a tee shirt that's it. You're committed.
So one afternoon in between the comings and going of the Ferry, the sea rising and falling, the storm warning it was growing and the skyline wooing anyone willing to stop and look, Lorie and Karen set up shop and, from expertise hard-earned-hard-won because they know their borough their city their own lives, answered for free any question asked...
For where else, Rev. Sparks asked us, could a Baptist preacher marry two Jewish men in a bar on the Lower East Side of New York. 
