What Peace Looks Like to Me

This morning, after our two-mile walk around the neighborhood,  

my amazing husband Raymond turned to me and asked,

“What does peace mean to you?”

Without much thought, I smiled and described one of my

favorite moments:

sitting in our backyard, early in the morning, listening to the

birds sing and

watching squirrels leap from branch to branch.A hot cup of

coffee in hand,

nestled in my favorite lounge chair,

that's a piece of peace for me.

But I also know peace runs deeper than these quiet moments.

Peace is our sacred morning walks and talks, an hour carved

out just for us.

It started as a routine, but it has evolved into something sacred.

We talk about everything, including the ways we’re different.

I want to travel the world, to walk through ancient temples and

cathedrals,

to place a handwritten note in a crevice in Thailand, to brush my

fingers along

the stone walls of Tuscany. He may not dream of those same places,

but we both value connection, adventure, and shared purpose.

Peace, for me, is not loud. It's not flashy. It’s simple. It’s intentional.

And it’s taken me years to understand that.

Growing up, I quit anything I wasn’t instantly good at.

I thought if something didn’t come easily, it wasn’t for me.

I didn’t understand that mastery, whether in a skill or in

personal growth,

requires practice. I never allowed myself the grace to

grow into something.

But for the past 35 years, I’ve been practicing peace.

Even when it eludes me, I haven’t given up. I seek it, I pursue it,

I surrender to it. It has become my mission. When I realize

I’m not at peace, I turn inward. I ask God to clear my mind

and heal my heart.

I’ve learned that peace isn’t found outside of me, it’s

cultivated within.

Today, I am grateful for all that I have and all that I am.

I’ve learned to

pause and ask myself better questions. I’ve learned to others like

my husband, to ask me the questions that challenge

me to think deeper:

“What does peace look like to you, Teresa?”

Do I surround myself with people who elevate my thoughts and

help me expand my vision? Am I allowing myself to grow into my

highest potential? I don’t want to settle.

I want to soar.

I’ve heard too many people, later in life, speak of regrets.

Not of things they did, but of the things they didn’t do.

The dreams they left unexplored. The risks they didn’t take.

I don’t want to add my name to that list.

Even when something seems impossible, there is always another way.

I’ve learned that when

I allow others to help me,

new possibilities open up. What seemed like a dead-end becomes

a new path.

It's up to me to decide the kind of life I want to live. It’s up to me to

give myself permission to grow, to learn, to be surrounded by

people who think bigger and live bolder. It’s up to me to stay

open to love,

to healing, to peace.

And most importantly, it’s up to me to remember that I must be

filled up in order to pour into others.

Peace begins with that choice.