Joseph L. Kagle, Jr. Peace Essays

Leave Room for Life

Peace is the most difficult thing to find in one’s life because most of the world is working against you. That is, it is working against you until you step back and see the wonder of the moment. I live. I love. I enjoy. And I am alive. I wish this for everyone. We must take a break from the daily rush, “smell the roses” and invite others on the peace journey. We must leave room for life.

Take a break from the daily rush and enjoy the beauty of a moment

  Driving down Valley Mills Drive early in the morning after a 7 a.m. Rotary meeting (penance for missing the previous day's meeting), thoughts raced around my mind's speedway.

  There was so much to do and so little time to do it all. And "all" is what most of us want to do each day. We have forgotten to leave a little for the next day. We have forgotten Hemingway's lesson when he left a story incomplete in a day's writing so that the next day he had someplace to start the process of creating a new day's work.

   Driving down Valley Mills Drive, I determined that I would see, record and marvel at the sight of Lake Waco. There had been so many days when the same resolution had been made, and I was surprised when I realized that I had missed the whole wondrous scene, thinking about a telephone call which had to be made, or a deposit in the bank, or a chore that just had to be completed in the next fraction of a second. This time I was determined that I would see and enjoy.

The scene unfolds

  Going down the hill as Valley Mills became Lake Shore Drive, I received the glimpses of the smooth waters through the trees. Then the scene opened and spread before me: a simple scene of blue sky, glassy water, spring-filled trees and bushes, and another hill to climb with my Ford chariot.

  The moment was held as long as it could be held. It was extended in time by the joy of the scene. The water that danced with light and soft color filled my being. I had done it. I had captured the moment.

  The fast pace of modern living had not won the day. Light, color, water, sky, green-green and rocks were all that existed.

  The same struggle is depicted in the movie, Star Trek: Insurrection. A major theme is a battle between those who would cast out innocence, art and fulfilled-living, and those who hold these attributes close to the heart.

  In one scene, Captain Picard learns how to extend a moment of beauty by blowing pollen from a flower. The star-like golden specks gleam in the sun in slow movement. Picard, a man of the future (technology, swift action) is forced to slow his gaze to a shuffle.

  Later that day, Lake Waco was on the way again.

 I had to rush to Kinko's. Rushing is what Kinko's is about, speeding up our office work.    Again, it was a struggle to forget my hectic job for a moment. I had to say, "Work does not exist. Work does not exist. Work does not exist. Work does not exist."

  But again, coming over the crest of the hill, diving into the green-blue of the lake and the magnificent Texas sky, work disappeared.

Extending the moment

  Isn't that what all of us wish to do? To live longer — not in years but in the extension of the moment. It is not the length of our lives that counts but how we use each precious moment. Lake Waco is a wonderful place for extended moments. Modern life does not allow long periods of slow contemplation, but when we can have them, they are the joy of living. We can truly see, hear, feel, enjoy and learn.

  It reminds me of the story of the beggar in an India market. Starving day after day, he begged for money. A kindly merchant watched this drama for a week. Finally, he gave the beggar money and told him to buy himself some food so that his life would be prolonged. The beggar thanked the merchant and took half the money and bought food. With the other half, he bought a flower. The merchant was angry. He had not given the man money to throw away.

  "Why have you bought that flower?" asked the irate merchant.

  The humble beggar answered, "Half your money will keep me alive for half a day. Holding the flower in my hand while I eat makes life worth living."

So living each moment is not hard once you ask, “Why am I alive?” But few do this. It takes a child-like perception of the world. You know, as if seeing it for the first time (which is true because the world is always changing but we think that it stays the same). With peace comes a joy that is seen through wonder’s magic lens.

Wonder’s magic lens

Path to joy is keeping Spirit of childhood

      I listened to the conversations as I left the workout room, down the long hall and into the outdoors on Lake Shore Drive. For four days it was the same.

    "Oh, what a gloomy day."

   "Isn't it nasty?"

"The weather has really turned bad." With a shudder, "Dreary isn't it?”

  Silently, I answered, "No, it is raining. It is gray. It is mist-filled. It is soft to the eye. It is just a day. In fact, it is Chinese day of mists and wonder."

Weather is a part of living. It just is. A sun-filled day is sometimes “too hot” or “too bright” by the same critic of rainy day.  Days are to be enjoyed for their own wonder, their own individuality.

  A Northern Sung Dynasty artist, I suspect, lived for the overcast, gray days where the mountains were wrapped in mists, only showing their powerful peaks and graceful slopes through the graying water-filled air.

  When I was in Colorado, the same mists filled some mornings with a grandeur and splendor that clear days never could match.

  Although the Impressionists loved the shining, sun-intense mid-day, Monet and Renoir painted on days where the mists filled the Seine.

  I am sure that they took out another good bottle of wine, a picnic basket filled with magic for their taste, palettes and lovely female companions to enhance the time, their wonder.

  I can hear them say, "The day is to be enjoyed, no matter what kind of day:" They painted side by side, sipping wine and flirting, filling the canvas with sun- or mist-filled moments.

Make the most of life

  For those who think of days for what you wish them to be rather than what they are, here is a piece of advice that was sent when I learned that I had to have unexpected surgery.

  "Life is what happens when you are sitting around planning what to do with your life." It made me laugh because it is so true.

  I have another friend who only listens to her inner voice when it tells her what can possibly go wrong in life. She lives in fear of each moment.

   I have a third friend who sees going downtown an adventure to be lived. Her children say she lies about the days she encounters. She says, "I only embellish reality." Her days are filled with joy and magic. I hope that her children learn that lesson.

  There are ways to learn about the magic. Never grow up. Or know when it all right to stay a child and when you need the adult persona. Or have a grandchild who forces you to see through her new eyes.

Communicating wonder

   Every artist is a newborn child. He or she takes out the blank canvas each day and sees it anew, then embellishes it with elements that are already there.

  Watch a child learn to walk. She sees the world as a classroom to practice each precious step. Each step is new and enjoyed. Picasso tried what he could not do so that he could learn to do what he could not do.

   I watched my 18-month granddaughter Erin at Fort Worth's Kimball Museum. We started by looking at the paintings "From Renoir to Picasso" but she wanted to be outside. She practiced walking between the orderly placed trees.

  I might not have seen the order in the trees or her joy in each step except that I was fascinated by her repeated journey around, through and be­tween those natural fingers of wood. We are born artists. It is not something you have to learn on a gray, fun-filled day.

  For every artist there are two elements which must work together to create a work of art: a spirit that holds a "willing suspension of disbelief" (also called "the wonder factor" or the surprise when you do not prejudge a day) and craftsmanship (a way to translate the wonder into some expression of communication).

    Some say: "I cannot be an artist. I can't do that." And in the saying, they do not do it.

I say: Being an artist is seeing what is there and then embellishing the sight. We all start out as artists. The secret is never losing the wonder of childhood.