Like Kevin, my thoughts on this anniversary are somber and yet what I imagine I hear from within, though faintly, is still a ‘song’. No, not at all lilting or joyful today. More like the slow tolling of great bells and echoing chants weaving in and out — in all languages — full of yearning for peace to prevail on earth.

Do not let yesterday cloud today.

I am thinking of Thich Nhat Hanh’s wisdom on the simple act of washing dishes, “You should wash each dish as if it were the baby Jesus,” or the baby Buddha. And so I am reminded that literally every little thing I do IS service, whether or not I am inspired by it. How to do small acts with great love? For me, the how is hinted at in the word “inspiration” itself. Breath.

Singing, with my mother and sister. Especially rounds (one of my favorites was Dona Nobis Pacem). Some of my earliest memories.

All I know for sure is that everything changes. Everything changes. And that knowledge is the basis for the gratefulness/great fullness I feel in this moment for the beauty I love right now. [This, too, changes as I sit here thinking.]

Fireflies! In daylight, they look so ordinary. In darkness, they astonish.
How they are compelled to rise up, to shine.

Some people are like that. Luminaries who rise to the darkness of their times. Blessed be.

As Kevin so beautifully wrote, “we all hurt… in our heads, or our hearts, or within our bodies.” Very often, the battles and the wounds are invisible. It can be hard to remember this especially when encountering angry people, arrogant people. I try at least to cause no more hurt and hopefully to apply the balm of kindness in whatever way I can. Even if it is simply practicing “the gentle art of blessing.”

I stand to greet the new day. Every morning, first thing, I stand out under the sky, lift my eyes and whisper “thank you” to the universe.

Thank you, Deb. I too will focus on “today.”

Thank you, Michael.

Yes, everything. Thank you for saying so. Maybe this is why I felt overwhelmed by the question and could only approach it from very early memory.

Dear Anna, thank you for asking. I guess I never thought about its origin. I only knew what my mother told me, which is that it meant “give us peace” in Latin. I learned lots just now from Wikipedia — that the words come from the Latin Mass and that the simple three-part melody we sang was a ‘canon.’ Beautiful harmonies. The origin of this melody is unknown, usually listed in most hymnals as “traditional.”

Dear Wendy, I light a candle for you here. With love, C.

Thank you, Jill.

Thank you, Ed, for this graceful parable which is settling deep within me.

Welcome! And thank you for sharing your beautiful practice.

So simple and true. Thank you.

I had not thought of internal conflict. Thank you.

I like this. On many levels. For me, it would be, “Stay. But stay quiet.”

“Shoes” of faith, love, and gratitude… that is a wonderful! Thank you.