What Does Peace Look Like To You?

 

It feels rather strange to be writing about peace when the world is so fractured and disturbed.

Every human being craves peace and strives to be at peace. Peace is often spoken of as the absence of conflict or noise, but to me it is something deeper, something more profound, a feeling that I wish to experience within me.

 

My personal peace comes from:

·        Completing a task that has been on my to-do list forever.

·        Conducting a difficult conversation and seeing it through better than I expected.

·        The acceptance of a situation or circumstance, and relinquishing control over it.

·        Savouring the quiet of the early morning with the right sounds around me—birdsong, the hum of the kettle, or even raindrops falling gently on a windowpane.

·        When I’m not overwhelmed by anxiety and my thoughts are rational and I can take one day at a time, I’m at peace.

 

What does peace look like?

 

Peace in daily life:

Peace is the laughter of children, the quiet strum of a guitar, a lullaby, basking in the winter sunshine, and the comfort of being myself.

Peace in relationships:

It’s when I can trust people and speak freely without the fear of being judged that I find peace. Peace is about embracing differences and coexisting without animosity. When I quit trying to make an impression to be likeable while accepting that it's okay not to be everyone’s cup of tea, I

find peace.

 

Peace in the world:

“Peace is not the absence of conflict, but the ability to cope with it.’’

-Mahatma Gandhi.

When nations choose dialogue over destruction and communication with respect, dignity, and compassion, peace reigns in the world.

 

Peace of mind:

My physical health is directly in sync with my mental health. When my thoughts are not racing and when anxiety doesn’t paralyze my functioning, I’m at peace.

 

My Takeaways:

Ultimately, peace looks like something I would allow to happen by clearing away the clutter and noise and the ‘what if’ and ‘what next’.

 

“Peace is a daily, a weekly and a monthly process gradually changing opinions, slowly eroding old barriers, quietly building new structures.”

 - John F. Kennedy

What does peace look like to you?

This post is part of the Blogchatter#WAPAD challenge

 

What Does Success Look Like To You On An Ordinary Day?

 

 

Success is generally measured by wealth amassed, milestones achieved, promotions, and trophies won.

Success on an ordinary day encompasses none of the above. It’s accomplishing the small, mundane tasks or routines that I have laid out for myself or experiencing small wins and joys. It is not loud and shiny but quiet and soft.

For me, success on an ordinary day would look like not hitting the snooze button or even waking up refreshed before the alarm goes off, all ready to take on the day. It would see me incorporating more movement into my day, getting some sunshine, pausing to savour that morning cuppa and going along with the flow of the day.

Success would be the way I choose to respond, rather than react to difficult situations and people. –That cheerful conversation with a friend that leaves me smiling is another kind of success.

When at the end of the day, I still have energy left to read a few pages or whisper a few words of prayer, I call it success.

Hence, success on an ordinary day is a far cry from what success is otherwise associated with. It’s balance, connection, joy, progress, and small wins. It’s about a life well lived.

 

This post is part of the Blogchatter #WAPAD challenge. 

Image credit : Pixabay. 

 

 WHAT DOES HOME MEAN TO YOU NOW?

 

I’ve realized that the definition of home for me has changed over the years. It no longer centres around a certain structure, an address.

The house I grew up in was a small cottage filled with love, laughter, stories, discipline, and routine. There was Mom, Dad, my brother, and me. The walls echoed the sounds of happy chatter or noise. These are now simply memories that I visit now and again.

At 61, home may have various connotations:

 

It’s a sanctuary of love for rest

Home is where I unmask and let go of the persona I present to the outside world. It’s my landing pad, where I kick off my shoes, turn on the music if the silence gets too loud and am my quirky best.

‘Home Sweet Home’ is a slightly disorganised space where plants wait to be watered, or a pile of books need to be arranged or furniture needs to be dusted. The kitchen in my home may not be the Cordon Bleu kind, but I enjoy rustling up meals for loved ones without really worrying too much about spilled gravy.

 

People can be home too. The ones who have stayed with me in storms and in sunshine, the ones who do not pass judgement or make hurtful comments, the few who understand and to whom I do not owe lengthy explanations, and the few who choose to listen.

 

The little rituals that I indulge in also feel like home

Listening to the birds outside my window as I sip my morning brew, practising chair yoga, or spending a quiet evening reading, sitting in my favourite spot.

Home can hence be defined in various ways. As one grows older, the definition of home being a bricks and mortar structure is rapidly replaced by places, people and moments that make us feel held, understood and at peace. 

This post is part of the Blogchatter #WAPAD2026 challenge.

Image: Pixabay

Convenience Store Woman

  Convenience Store Woman.

 

 Convenience Store Woman by Japanese author Sayaka Murata, despite being a slim novella of under 200 pages, is not a ‘light’ read.

“Society expects you to fit into a certain mould for it to accept you. What if you refuse to fit into that mould and are happy in your own little space?”

Keiko Furukawa is a 36-year-old woman who has been working at Smilemart, a convenience store in Tokyo, for 18 years.

Society wonders at her ‘single’ status and her lack of ambition for better prospects. Keiko couldn’t care less. She knows what she wants. She temporarily gives into the pressure and ultimately does as she pleases.

Her literal-minded brain doesn’t grasp emotions. While family and friends grieve the death of a bird, little Keiko feels no sadness and prefers to eat it.

The convenience store is Keiko’s world. She thrives on the routine and stability that she finds in the Convenience store.

Adopting a deadpan style of writing, Murata describes Keiko as a cog in the wheel of society who must clean, stock the shelves, and bid customers a good morning. Keiko breathes, eats, and sleeps  the convenience store. Murata describes her as a woman who doesn’t know how to be a normal person beyond the dos and don’ts of the convenience store manual.

Keiko doesn’t conform to the rules laid down by society and is pushed by the same to get a ‘real job’ and to get married. Keiko gets into a relationship with Shiraha, a despicable man and an outcast.

Their relationship is built not on love but on a mutual need to hide from a society hell-bent on ‘fixing’ them.

Murata thus exposes a society that refuses to ‘live and let live’ and would rather see a woman suffer in a toxic relationship, rather than be single, happy, and content in a low-paying job.

 The Convenience Store Woman is a short, brilliant, and quirky read. Without being preachy, it tells the tale of a woman who refuses to ‘fit into the box’ created by society and lives life as she pleases. 

If you're fond of Japanese literature, like short reads, quirky protagonists, and are not a fan of societal norms, then you should read the book. 

I was happy that Keiko did not succumb to societal pressure. Societal pressure can drive women insane. Kieko knew what she wanted and stood her ground. 

Have you ever chosen a path that people didn't understand? How did it feel?