Shards of Peace

When we believe in our right to happiness we will have happiness – Melody Beattie

I looked outside the other day and saw a foreign object lying on the grass in our front yard. Going out to investigate, I found someone had tossed a beer bottle against the line of rocks that separate our castle’s keep from the unbridled hoards who might wish to break our peace. Instead, they broke the bottle and the shards littered our lawn.

It was sad to see this little idyllic town of ours marred by the thoughtless act of some dunderhead who felt it proper to lighten his load by tossing his empty container into the quaint little lot with which God had seen fit to bless us. But, that’s what he did (referring to the dunderhead, not to God).

There was a side of me that wanted to gather up fragments, bag them up for evidence, and send them off to the finest crime labs in the country to be reassembled in CSI fashion, so that our town Constable could chase down the impudent creature and toss him/her off to the State Rock-pile for maybe a day or two shy of eternity.

But then again, I am a man of peace and know better than to think that way.

Oh sure, there are times I would like to stand fast like Gandalf the Gray on the Bridge of Moria, face the Balrog, staff in hand, and declare with thunderous power, “You shall not pass!” But those times are far and few between, and one really shouldn’t be doing that to the four and five-year-olds who ride up and down our street on their bikes. They could start to think me quite weird and, besides, are probably not the ones who desecrated my front yard.

It occurs to me that the desire to wreak mayhem upon those who do bad things isn’t always a healthy response. It’s a natural response, naturally, but it isn’t necessarily healthy. For one thing, I find it gets my blood pressure up. I can practically feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, raising my pulse and respiration and, frankly, it’s not a feeling I like (although it is better than no pulse, to be sure).

Now, some people enjoy an adrenaline rush, but I’m not one of them. It makes me irritable. When I’m watching a game on TV and my team is not doing well, I start to yell at the players, coaches, and referees. I start to take what’s happening personally, and the results aren’t always pretty. Even though purple is an appealing color for a flower, it doesn’t look that good when it is the primary shade of a television viewer, like me.

So while my initial response to an event or situation may be primal, I find it helpful to take a moment to actually … oh, what’s that word I’m looking for? Oh right … I find it helpful to actually “think” – to put some thought into what’s going on.

While there are some things for which digging a ditch and dying in it are appropriate, a broken beer bottle in the yard is probably not one of them.  Gathering stones and building an eight foot wall around my yard and topping it with razor wire is probably not the best response I could make. Digging a moat around the property and filling it with alligators or piranhas is probably a bit of over-kill, too. 

The point is, there are some things that are simply out of my control. Yes, a broken bottle is an irritation, but it does not call for a nuclear response. In fact, most of us can actually control how we respond to those petty annoyances in life (and by extension, the larger issues of life, as well).

I can choose to wish the person ill who tossed their garbage into my yard, or I can wish him well. That choice is mine to make. I find when I wish someone well, no matter what they’ve done, it is easier to forgive and forget. They will eventually suffer the consequences of their actions if they continue the path they’re treading, so I don’t need to fret over it.

Anyway, that’s been my week and, I think, this is more than enough trash talk for now here in this, our valley.