Missoula peace rally address: Threads on the Wing
By DANIELLE LATTUGA
Sunday, February 16, 2003
Each one of us here holds in our hearts, the story that brought us to this place. It may have taken some of us moments and others of us lifetimes, but regardless, we are here together to claim our vision of peace and solidarity.
In the space between waking and light, I hear a soldier's voice. He says, It's our job, so I guess we have to do it. His voice wavers unconvincingly, at odds with his heart. My wife is in Korea, he says, I want her here with me, but I guess that is how it works in the military sometimes. He has resigned himself to the prospect of this war, but it is clear that his heart is not at peace.
I rise and bundle up for a walk along the Clark Fork River. I feel the weight and pressure of this world on the brink and I can't seem to stretch my limbs, or find a rhythm in my steps. Over and over I ask this question to the morning, Why do we live in this place, where love does not take precedence, where the pulse and music in our hearts is cast aside and stifled by the booming and brief voices of a few?
I take a slow breath, struggling to fill my sluggish lungs, and cast off the weight of an agenda that is not mine. It is an unusually clear morning and finally there is blue to break the pale winter whitewash. From the corner of my vision something swirls into sight. Two eagles have taken flight, and they whirl and hover on the wind, orbiting each other wing to wing, wing to tail, beak to tail. Like the debris of a dying season, they seem to be at the mercy of the air, no control, as if they have given themselves to it. But simultaneously, their great wings begin to push. They are synchronized in flight and they turn towards the mountains, claiming their direction. I watch their bodies rise and fall, jostled by the awesome power of their wings. Not an ounce of their energy is wasted, each motion they make farseeing and clear. For a moment I feel the air brush my skin. My eyes follow them and as the distance between us grows, I feel myself lifted and restored, standing tall and strong, like I am a link between earth and sky.
The morning brought to me a blessing, one which I cling to with increasing resolve. We have all explored a range of human emotion and experience, some of us only catching glimpses of true hope or hopelessness, some of us knowing too well the depth and breadth of each. These experiences compose our stories, and from our stories, we gain the only wisdom that we continually grasp and find absolute. As we move through them, we face mysteries within ourselves. We learn yet another aspect of our capacity for love and insight. We illuminate spaces in our experience that reveal to us gifts and tools for navigating the complex landscapes of both our inner and outer worlds. In retrospect we are able to see that deep within us, a core of knowledge is building. It is the gauge by which we move through life, and ultimately it is the source of our vision.
All of us have moments of doubt and fear, and I am sure we feel them rippling through us with the seemingly imminent war in Iraq. We are bombarded with voices everyday. They tell us that there is no other solution, no other way to dispel terror and perhaps for a moment, we are inclined to believe them. For many of us there is no simple answer, and we find ourselves overshadowed by those who shout louder, those who throw their weight around because they can, not necessarily because they know where they are going. In the shadow of the few, sometimes we find it hard to see the clarity of our stories, those spaces in our souls no longer spark and glitter. We struggle to find that place of crisp and succulent power that exists in feeling the world around us and within us. We cannot grow in the dark places of uncertainty, but at times we dwell in them. It is natural to find terror in the things that we do not know, and it is at those times that we must return to what we do know in order to emerge with more force and resolve.
If you turn to the person next to you and you look into their eyes, perhaps you can catch a glimpse of their story. You might be able to see if they feel doubt or clarity at this very moment. Our stories are fine threads connecting us to each other. The more that we listen to each other's stories, the more threads we see reaching us, and these threads become paths out of the darkness when we need them. These threads stretch and contract, vibrate and tremble, with each motion that we make. Perhaps this is what the eagles tell us with their economy of flight; everything we do is felt, everything we do matters. Perhaps this will remind us that everything we do resonates through these threads that stretch around the earth, a web of voices, a web of knowing that grows stronger and more vast with each day.
The murmur is growing louder and beginning to drown out the discordant and booming empty voices. The murmur is growing into a song that trembles and vibrates in our very bones as we balance on the tidal surges that pulse through our web.
In our time for making history, our collective stories are what we turn to when we need to replenish our strength and maintain our hope. I am not saying that hope is all we need to make a peaceful world, but there will be times when it is all that we are sure of. Make everything you do a prayer. Your breath, your words, your dance. Extend your hand into the wind and feel the whisper and murmur of the world revealed, each strand vibrating. The whispers tell you, you are not alone. The whispers tell you there is a greater wisdom to reach for. The whispers tell you your vision is true.
Our voices grow louder and begin permeate your sleep, your words, and your days. In the sound of water sliding across the earth you hear it, PEACE. In the way your fingers tingle as you brush them across the face of your lover, you feel it, PEACE. In the way the light pounces off a freshly fallen snow and sets the world ablaze, you see it, PEACE. Peace is a tiny moment that you cling to. Peace is a strand of knowing, stretched the worldwide. Peace is the whisper of wings, steadily gaining height and power, pulling you upward, with vision and force, a rhythmic pounding, peace, peace, hope, peace. Peace is the flight of two eagles lifting us out of the shadows and giving us the strength to overcome.