mayan hawk

Peace and its Mystery

Quince de Deciembre 1999

One day after the morning snorkel at Paradise Reef with my amiga, I felt compelled to hear what the masses felt about peace. Personally, I feel the passion of peace each time I feel, smell or touch the breeze of the sea.  The beauty of her boundless tides, endless colors and caressing of the waves on my body make my eyes marvel at the different shades of the azul green and rich, deep purple colors.  The parrot fish, the brain corals, eagle rays, dolphins all hovering in the current of time but not knowing of time or even the tranquility a person embraces when entering the haven of the magic waters.

Some days I think I’m being touched by the invisible mermaid, that makes these moments of peace embedded into my long memories.  After each time I play among the creatures in the magic waters, I’m massaged by its tranquility.

And so this day I gazed up into the sun and I wondered what peace meant to others.  Then I rode my bike along the beach and the ferry dock and waited for the next boat from Playa del Carmen.  I gazed again up in to the sun and thanked the spirits for all their blessings.  I watched the fisherman coming in with their morning catch, I saw children laughing and I saw the ferry coming across the sea.

As the boat arrived at the dock, I started to question some tourists and others to unveil what peace was to them.  At first there was a little girl named Ali who told me, “peace is playing in the park and talking to the little magic people who fly on the backs of butterflies dressed in colorful costumes.”  She said, that they are always at peace because they love to play and make people happy.

Next I questioned an old fisherman whose lined face spoke of the years of toils from the currents of his existence.  His name was Juan.  He spoke of his many days at sea and he said, “peace is the sea itself at dawn reflecting the sun in the bright gold and crimson mirrored by a purple glow of another day to begin and go fishing.”  He spoke of the quiet of the dawn and the stillness of the water before the wind awakes.

As I sat by the dock, a radiant couple strolled by, seemingly in love, a passion gleamed from their eyes and I asked them, “what is peace to you?”  The young woman named Gloria smiled, her dark eyes glowing, her skin so golden, and she said, “peace to me is knowing that I am loved by a friend, my lover and my family.  This affects my inner soul and opens up my heart to a state of fulfillment.  To know this fulfillment is to know love, and to have love is to know peace.”

As I sat there longer, I stared across the dock at an old Mayan lady who was sitting on the water’s edge gazing into the water. Her expression was dreamlike, or she seemed to be dreaming of something far off in the depths of her life.  I asked her name, and she replied Anna Maria.  I asked Anna Maria if she would share her wisdom about what peace meant to her.  She never really looked at me directly, but as her black eyes stared into the azul sea, she said this:  “Peace is finding your creative being.  When you find that special talent and express yourself, your soul has found its purpose and you can be at peace.  I am a weaver.  For me, each thread that is woven into my hammocks are the threads of harmony and joy. As I weave this magic of my spirit, I recreate this magic that my Grandmother taught me and her spirit and her Mother‘s spirit all intertwine in the magic of my creation.  From this creation, I create peace in my soul.”

I thanked her for her wisdom, and she nodded and I ran across the street and yelled to a group of youth, laughing as they headed toward the plaza.  I asked them what was peace to them. A curly brown haired guy named Pete with a bronze tan replied, “Peace is having your freedom.  Peace is to walk where you like, love what you want and sometimes, peace is just silence.  It can be just hanging out looking into the sunset or the sunrise.

The rest of the day, I again thought about peace as I rode my bicycle along the beach and watched the sunset.  That night I stared into the stars, deep into the universe.  So clear was this night that the tail of the big dipper, or as the Mayans called it the 7 Macaw, almost touched the ground.  The moon was in the first quarter stage and sat on the horizon in its own tranquility.  I reflected on my day of joy and gave thanks and prayed to the spirits.

Then I remembered all the stories and answers I received to the question what is peace.  As thought it through, it came to me that it’s possible that the stories of peace had a common denominator.  It seems that peace comes from the inner depths of joy, the nothingness of time and from the caverns of our heart consciousness.

I laughed with the moon and spoke to the stars, realizing that peace is with all of us.  I laughed again and said, peace be with us.  Oh Venus, peace be with you, Mother Earth, peace be with you and peace to all and to all a good night.