May Peace Prevail

 There's an excellent chance you've seen a Peace Pole in a public park or garden at some point in your life.

There are a couple where I live, and one is in an unexpected location. It's "in" a garden, but not in the garden. Next to a public botanical garden is a small complex owned by the Catholic Diocese, including a "house of prayer" and a small residential space. This complex doesn't have a fence separating it from the garden, so the garden visibly flows into the grounds of the House of Prayer (and vice versa). In what is essentially the side yard of the attached house – but appears to be, sort of, kind of, in the garden – you'll find a Peace Pole.

I'm not sure what the story is behind it. Whether some people wanted it in the garden but the City Council decided one public pole (at a beach-side park) was enough and this was a compromise, or if the Catholic Diocese just wanted a Peace Pole in their House of Prayer complex. Either way, there's a Peace Pole almost, but not quite, in the gardens.

People can also purchase Peace Poles to place in their own gardens, so it's entirely possible this is a personal Peace Pole in a semi-public space. For all I know it could be a DIY job – someone just made their own.

Peace Poles are an interesting concept: a physical representation of a prayer, "May Peace Prevail on Earth", erected in a (more or less) public space with the prayer written in multiple languages. It's both a wish for the prayer to linger in that space, and a call for anyone who sees the pole to make that prayer themselves.

My cynical old heart has never really had much truck with prayers for peace. It's one of the tenants of Quakerism and Buddhism that I've never really embraced. Not because I'm a war-loving person, but because I'm a realist. We can resist taking part in war and violence ourselves, but we can't end war and violence. Those things will last for as long as any humans exist, unfortunately. And will probably outlive us, as nature is rife with battles and skirmishes.

In order to bring about "peace" (as in, the end to war and violence), we would, quite frankly, have to remove ourselves from the planet.

And in order to truly bring about "peace" (as in, the end to war and violence) in ourselves, we would have to change the way we move through the world to an extent that I don't think many people fully understand. To "be the change we wish to see" is all we can do, but most of us can only do a fraction of that process – the implications and ramifications of living a life dedicated to peace are far more extensive than just having a pacifist's approach to war and violence.

But I was thinking about that prayer recently, and it suddenly occurred to me that I was thinking of the wrong "peace". I mean, I'm pretty sure the Peace Poles are meant to support an end to war and violence and promote harmony among the peoples of the earth, but for me, I was thinking of the wrong "peace".

The word "peace" can also mean "calm". It can mean an absence of noise and turmoil, as well as a presence of  a restorative calm. The idea of "peace", as in a sense of calm that quiets turmoil and brings a healing stillness... that's something that speaks to me. The idea of this kind of peace "prevailing" throughout the world, bringing people relief from the pain caused by war and violence? That really speaks to me.

As I was contemplating this other meaning of the word "peace", I realised the prayer could be interpreted as a wish for all wars to end, or it could be interpreted as a prayer of blessing – a metta – to ask that in ourselves and in the hearts of our siblings throughout the world, peace (as in, a calmness that quiets the noise and turmoil that surrounds us) may prevail. That, in spite of the war and violence we are faced with, the kind of peace that lets us recognise each other's humanity (and our own) might prevail.

To be honest, any attempt to bring about any kind of peace (as in, the end to war and violence) has to start with us genuinely wishing each other the chance to live in peace (as in, a healing stillness that quiets noise and turmoil).

And asking for this for ourselves and others is the first step towards making the world a better place for us all. We may never take more than this first step. We may never be able to take more than this first step. But we can take this step. And, to be honest, vowing to do the impossible – because the very act of trying to do it will change the world for the better – is at the heart of the Buddhist faith ("the many beings are innumerable; I vow to save them all").

May peace prevail on earth.