Kathleen's Korner at TheStidhams.com

How many times I have been surprised, when meeting someone new, to discover that we have known each other all along.

I had that feeling again this last weekend, when I met up with a fellow Babbleholic at the Whidbey Kite Festival on Saturday. We drove for two hours, and another half hour on the ferry to get there, and spent a lovely afternoon with new friends enjoying the ocean breeze and the wonderful kites.

Earlier this year, a similar feeling, driving up to a different Babbler’s home, to be greeted by a smile that belongs to my grandmothers, my cousins, my family.

Feeling instantly safe, completely at ease, perfectly accepted (strange ideas and all) — what a gift! And how sadly rare in this world. I am generally ill-at-ease with people, even (or especially) with those I already know.

So, I don’t expect to be instantly comfortable with everyone. With anyone, in fact I am always startled when I come home to a new place, a new person. That sense of recognition of me in the space between myself and others…

Yet, there is a part of me that seems to know there is something in common… between one and another, between the other and my self.

How sad it would be to find myself always lonely with people — at odds with them, seeing only differences.

Perhaps the beginning of Peace is that point where “other” becomes “self.” Perhaps the essence of Peace is being comfortable enough with another person to both celebrate their unique qualities and point out their errors and strangeness… with humor, with love, intending not to chastise but to learn and support.

And the goal of Peace? Not merely an absence of war — absence needs to be filled.

No, the goal of Peace must be, ultimately, to fill the space between us. To know who someone is, and then to let the undeniably dangerous concept of Love fill the gap.

I have today, now, this moment to treasure.  And then nothing.

This time, this place, these people (or this person) — or never, nowhere, no one.

What do I value?  See what surrounds me, where I am, what I do, who is with me.

What do I believe?  My work, my life, my heart express the essence of my in-most thoughts.

Do I do great things?  Or little things?  And who decides what is worthy?  Do I count as success only that which brings accolades — or that which pleases me?

I walked out in the garden this morning, pulled a few weeds, admired that last rose on the persistent shrub with its self-made nosegays, counted the spiderwebs hanging like solar diagrams on the buddleia (four) and threw a ball, a stick, a toy for the dogs.

I picked up the litter from the drive.  I wandered through the house, putting this thing away, setting this other aside for later.

I checked through the mail — a note from a friend, unsolicited recycling materials, a bit of news.

I deconstructed a little more of the water-damaged wall in my office and disturbed a small (maybe a few month’s old) ant nest when I removed a bit of insulation.  I set the window open to push the dust outside — or does it push it further inside?  No matter, the house was cooler.

I read, I played, I cleaned, I  rested, I dreamt.

Today, here, with my dogs at my side, I waited for my family to return home.

It finally rained.  A good, long soaking rain all Wednesday.

I sat inside and worked on projects.  Putting the story I have been writing online mostly…

It rained, and the ground was damp with moisture.

I stepped outside and the air was clean — no smoke, no dust.  Just air.

The rich smell of good soils and the sound of the water pushing the air out of the ground were intoxicating.

By yesterday, the skies had cleared completely.  And the bright blue over the sparkling clean leaves gave life a crisp new look.

We drove up the Olympic Peninsula to Port Townsend and took a ferry to Whidbey Island for the kite festival.  The winds were brisk and constant out of the west, shifting to a more northerly breeze in mid-afternoon.  There were kites of all sizes and shapes flying, floating (and only occasionally falling) as demonstrators and contestants enjoyed the first full day of Autumn.

And soon, I hope, we will have rain again.  But not until I spend some hours in the garden…