"I disturb your peace," she said. And it was true. And then she was gone.
Something clicked in that moment--though it has taken time to really understand.
The peace which was disturbed had been predicated on a carefully-constructed and limited life of simplicity. Few bills. Nothing to fix or maintain. A tiny cabin, a tiny life, with tenuous connections to more.
Somehow, that moment helped me understand that a peace which could be disturbed was not a true peace. The peace I seek is an eternal and internal state of being. One that cannot be disrupted or disturbed.
A year later and my life looks wholly different. It is not simple. It is not so small. It is more connected. There are bills and things which break. It is a larger and more dynamic life.
And the peace? Well. It is there. Always present. Harder to see, experience, relish. Sometimes I find it; often I don't.
A peace which can be disturbed is not true peace.
I will not impoverish myself through an acceptance of poor substitutes.
