Knee-deep in Snow and Peace

I have always been intrigued with people who say they don’t take any stock in people’s praise of their work….if they did, it would follow they would also take to heart the criticisms. Just think about the ramifications if that is expanded to praise and criticism of who we are as a person. This opens up so much about who we are and how we operate in the world. At one level, it sounds like a lofty, enlightened realm-of-being, when one is so grounded in who they are and what they do that it truly doesn’t matter what others think. They do their good work regardless. On the other hand, there are callous, uncaring people who do what they want to do for their own purposes, who couldn’t care less about what others think or the very real consequences their actions may have on other’s lives. It’s kind of a mind-boggling philosophical humanity question, but I bet most of us have struggled with the themes of praise and criticism at some time in our lives and how it relates to our work and to our being.

I have inadvertently been a people pleaser most of my life—I didn’t consciously choose such a role, but I actively wanted people around me to be pleased—with themselves, with the circumstances, with me, with everything. I doled out praise thinking everyone wanted and needed to be affirmed. (Not sure that’s really in the past tense.) Exhausting work, as it turns out. Thankfully most of us age out of that to a great extent as we choose whether our ‘limited’ energy goes to others or to our own well-being. My challenge has been how to do that and still be a force of goodness to the people around me and for the world. I know I’m not alone in that rigorous challenge.

As overwhelming and existential as these questions are, I have slowly realized (and was recently reminded by my friend Mark) that the inner quality that needs to be cultivated is peace. It’s not about giving and receiving praise. When I was younger, I really had no idea what ‘peace’ even meant, let alone how to manifest it in my own life. I take that back—I did want to be a peacekeeper in my people-pleasing role. I did desire external peace—no conflict, no chaos, no discord, no disturbances. No kidding. My job is easier now that I can work on bringing internal peace to myself. A big part of that is accepting and respecting all the former iterations of myself with all the flaws and foolishness that I embodied. Another part is actually experiencing peaceful places. I love the stripped-down winter woods that lays bare the essentials—blue skies, brilliant white snow, and textured gray-brown wood of the trees.

The clear sky and sunshine illuminated another essential—our shadows. To come to peace, we must know and accept our shadow side. Easier said than done.

For peace, we have to allow decay and death to happen—to old ideas, to old ways, to old things and people who have lived their lives with valiant strength and their God-given goodness.

For peace, we must come to terms with the people in our lives—those in the past and those who surround us now. That may be an uphill climb.

Peace is living into who we have become with age and experience. The travails of life may swirl around us, but they don’t overwhelm us as much as they did when we were younger. Humbly accept the power of you.

Peace is climbing the hills, letting the shadows slide down behind us.

Peace is letting the sunshine soothe and warm us like a humming lullaby.

Peace is turning a corner when others choose a different path.

Peace is having faith in the seasons of life.

Peace is glimmering silence for thought and introspection.

Peace is being curious, moving forward through fear, and letting your creativity imagine finding an enormous praying mantis in a snowy forest.

Peace is standing knee-deep in snow along with the wild things that are just as curious about us.

Peace be with you all.