Posts Tagged ‘world peace’

         “We all have our own life to pursue, our own kind of dream to be weaving, and we all have the power to make wishes come true, as long as we keep believing.” – Louisa May Alcott

It’s just a tiny waterfall, but from such are mighty rivers created. — Photo by Pat Bean

        There’s nothing wrong with a bit of wishful thinking. I came across that phrase in a book I was reading way back in 1980. Back then my wishful thoughts were mostly centered on finding my one true soulmate, which I spent many years unsuccessfully searching for.

It sounds more fun to call myself artist-in-residence than in-isolation during these stormy times. — Art by Pat Bean

Today, especially in these times but also in the ones leading up to them, my wishful thinking has been for world peace. It’s a topic that has been at the forefront of my wishful thinking ever since I realized that I had to be my own special soulmate.

As a realist, I sadly acknowledge that world peace won’t come in my lifetime, if ever. Not when we live in a world divided by borders, colors, beliefs, languages and hopes and dreams.

It won’t come, at least the way I see it — and which I do understand may not be the only way to see the world — until this planet’s residents all see themselves as one race: Human Beings.

This is not a new thought to me. It’s one that I have long thought about, and in my own rebellious way have acted on. Whenever I have come across a request to identify my ethnicity, I have marked the “other” box, and wrote in “human.”

It’s exactly what I did when I filled out the short online 2020 Census yesterday. World peace has to start somewhere.

If not me, then who? If not now, then when?

Blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat: To all humans, around the world, who are doing their part, be it nursing the sick or staying isolated in an effort to get us through these hard times. I have family members in both categories, including a granddaughter who is a nurse and a grandson who has lost his income because his job is not considered essential. Personally, I thank the woman who put a load of groceries in my trunk that I had ordered for pickup at Walmart yesterday. We stayed socially distanced, with her signing my receipt. I thanked her for her service and she thanked me for her job. It was enough to put tears in my eyes.

Pat Bean is a retired journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is a wondering-wanderer, avid reader, enthusiastic birder, Lonely Planet Community Pathfinder, Story Circle Network board member, author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon, and is always searching for life’s silver lining.

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 We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.” – Martin Luther King Jr.


Travels With Maggie

The day I discovered there was no Santa Claus is as clear in my memory as the day it happened. I had persisted in believing well after most kids had wised up. Finally my mother sat me down on the couch and explained the facts of life to me.

She said she didn’t want me to make a fool of myself in front of my more knowledgeable friends.

I remember saying: “But if he doesn’t come down the chimney, doesn’t he just use the door?”

My mother was persistent, however, and ignored my desire to continue believing.


While I was devastated at the truth, my own children relished in ferreting out the truth and destroying the Santa myth at very young ages.

As these same, less naive kids grew up and left a fractured home behind, Christmases became smaller and smaller. Jobs, school, obligations, in-laws and economic realities meant my children began celebrating Christmas in their own homes.

For many years, at least one of my children would make it home for Christmas. But even that finally ended. In response I became the floater, rotating among my children for Christmas.

This year finds me at the home of my son, Lewis, celebrating Christmas a day late so my son can have all his children around him. And guess who’s coming to dinner? His ex-wife, the mother of his four children.

You see, it was her year for Christmas, but Lewis still wanted all his kids around him for the holidays. And yes, I agree, his current wife is a saint.

The compromise, however, is a great beginning for eventual world peace. Wouldn’t you agree?

But if you don’t, keep it to yourself. I already suffered enough being told there was no Santa Claus. And Maggie, who was feeling well enough to walk the park loop this morning, doesn’t want to know either.


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