A Time for peace

This is one of those days when you think finally, that Spring is possible; that it will happen. It is sunny, not exactly warm but not snowy or freezing or unpleasant. So, because it was so lovely I decided to go for a walk in the park on the lake. Clearly, many other people with their dogs and their fishing gear and their families had made the same decision. 

As I walked around enjoying the barren trees, avoiding the mud, and people-watching with great joy, I was filled with such gratitude. That we have such beauty here in this huge and bustling city; that it is free and safe and beautiful is so very special.

As I was sitting on a lovely bench overlooking the lake and pondering what an awesome (literally) gift this is, I began thinking about a book I have just finished reading. It is called *' I shall not Hate' by Dr. Izzeldin Abuelaish. Dr Abuelaish is a Palestinian physician who, in 2008 lost his wife to cancer and then only a few months later lost three of his daughters and a niece in an Israeli shelling of his house in the Gaza strip. The title tells you what his response has tried to be; how he has chosen to try to love rather than hate. But what I was particularly thinking about, because his book opens with a scene of him and his family at the beach near Gaza enjoying a brief moment of peace in a land of chaos, was  how the accidents of where we are born are so mysterious; how many of us through no effort on our part are born in safety and without so-called ancient enemies.

Dr Abuelaish's description of life in Gaza, of the suffering and the poverty and the pain is as it is in many other parts of our world: horrible, inhumane, unbearable. Many countries and many peoples are suffering in a way I have no experience even to imagine. So, why can I sit by Lake Ontario in peace and safety while so many others have no lake, no safety, no peace. I do feel as if it lays a heavy responsibility on me to live, to act, in such a way that builds peace and not enmity; that acknowledges that I have no right to what I have but that if I have it I must treasure it and be grateful for it yet be willing to let it go if I am asked. Such a gift means that I need to live my life in such a way that others may have such gifts. I may not be able to do big things but every small act I make can add either to the healing or to the inhumanity of the world. I see that it has to do with the little choices I make.

In some ways, as I was reflecting on this I thought that this leads back to what Thich Nhat Hanh so often reminds us about living in the present moment only and holding everything lightly. But also he reminds us often to let go of labels. This is what he says: *We are separated by labels, by words like Israeli, Palestinian, Buddhist, Jew and Muslim. When we hear one of these words it evokes an image, and we immediately feel alienated from the other group or person...People are caught in these notions and images and they cannot recognize each other as human beings. The practice of peeling away all the labels so that the human being can be revealed is truly a practice for peace.

*I Shall not hate: A Gaza Doctor's Journey by Dr Izzeldin Abbuelaish,Vintage Canada, 2010/11
*The Everyday wisdom of Thich Nhat Hanh, compiled and edited by Melvin McLeod, Shambhala Press, Boston, 2011