I am always grateful when the raucous noise of July 4th has ended and peace is once again restored. Yesterday, I spoke of the nasty smells that are an affront to my nose; but what surprised me, upon returning home just before midnight on Independence Day, was the aftermath from the fireworks that had been going off over the course of the evening. I had spent most of the duration of the fireworks displays at a friend’s house who lives just a couple of miles out of town. We sat outside under the almost full moon, a pleasant breeze brushing past and away from us. We had a view of the fireworks for approximately 180ᐤ across the landscape, but we were far enough away and at a safe distance so that we did not have our nerves shattered by the thundering booms and cracks and flares of the explosives.
I arrived back home around 11 p.m., where the fireworks were still escalating fervently and building up to the finale. I was immediately grateful that I had been able to escape them for the better part of the evening, but I was not prepared for the air that was so thick with putrid smoke, it was difficult to breathe. For some reason that I cannot fathom, this bi-yearly explosion of fireworks fills millions of people with joy. But, what is entertainment for them, is sheer terror for animals, birds, people like me, and the many soldiers who have fought in wars and lived to tell about them. Dynamite and guns and the death and destruction that comes with them, are a sinister preoccupation for millions of people. Like Shakespeare’s comedies and tragedies, weapons are seen according to one’s own point of view. I despise guns, but those who have them, do not see the harm that lies latent within them until they are put to use.
I can do nothing to escape these things that cause my soul concern. They are part of the world that everyone lives in. Those people whose beliefs and behavior are averse to my own, are my brothers and sisters. So too, are the animals and birds, flowers and trees. Perhaps if I have enough love in my own heart, allowing the light of spirit to shine through me, those people who own weapons may be inspired to lay them down and to seek a better way to rejoice in this thing we call life. We can celebrate, not with explosives, but as did the pagans of old, with singing and dancing. If I can be the peace I wish to see, hopefully others will follow suit.
