I Thought I'd Find Peace by Now

I thought I would find peace by now.

Trains, planes and automobiles took us to Washougal, Washington, and back last week to honor a friend killed when five stories of concrete collapsed on him in Port au Prince as he was heading out to meet representatives of a rural clinic to install solar panels. Because of the manner of his death the rituals of visitation, a wake, saying good bye were not possible. There was something incomplete in that, and quite lonely.
In Washougal, fifty men and women from the Cape Horn Patriot Guard, a triple volley of seven guns from the Air Guard, 25 Bhuddists from the Tzi Chi Foundation, four Knights of Malta, a film director, an Army Ranger, a representative from Partners in Health, business associates for sustainable living, two Christian pastors, three musicians and search-and-rescue teams fresh from Haiti, joined Linda and me with the family. There was something contrary to the otherwise incomplete loneliness of grief; something quite transcendent. It was no longer a matter of finding a place for my grief, but one of recognizing the vast fabric we weave with the threads of struggle that connect our lives.

We met twelve years ago as Walter was making a transition from business to humanitarianism. He pursued this passion brought on by a revelation of spirit that there is a matrix of existence that ties us all together, and if one suffers, all suffer to some degree. The best we can do is to ease the struggle of each other wherever and however we might.

The hectic pace of the trains, planes and automobiles of last week has drawn to a hush now, as has this life of our friend. But life itself has not. My struggle continues as does yours, and as we struggle together with none of us really finding much peace, I wonder if the best we can do is to do our thing, tow the line, turn the crank, enjoy what days we have, and carry each other along the road. I found that in Washougal. I hope we can find that here.