Maybe it is because I’m a father. Maybe it is because I have been blogging a lot about peace and compassion.

I hugged my 3 year old tight when he woke up. I thought about those kids huddled down in Plaza Towers Elementary School. I envisioned hundreds of candles so easily put out by a firm breeze. I felt the powerlessness of the fathers and mothers as they watched the tornado head towards their children’s school.

Suddenly, the $46 parking ticket I got on Sunday or the overpriced tickets we purchased to go to Hawaii this summer did not matter anymore. What mattered was the warmth of my son’s chubby arms wrapped around my neck.

When  my older son started to whine about not wanting the breakfast I made for him, I hesitated before yelling at him. I was thankful that I got to spend this time with him before he went to school, even if he was in a grumpy mood.

We spend so much of our day worrying about things, money, and the future. Luckily, this morning I remembered what was really important–life, relationships, and loving others.

Like Suheir Hammad said in a video I posted a few days ago, “Affirm life, Affirm life.” Everything else is just details.

My thoughts and prayers to all the families in Oklahoma. May you be free from suffering. May you know peace and joy.

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For example, although this boy looks disabled, I see him motoring around our library every week. Everything about him reveals a huge heart.

Kids in general have tons of heart, yet we often tend to forget that. We tend to be condescending towards kids, rather than filled with admiration.

Picture a baby leaning to stand or walk. Watch how many times they fall on their behinds, yet they never give up. They keep getting back on their feet. Wouldn’t it be great if we all maintained that perseverance?

When I look into the hearts of others, I can see past MY prejudices, judgments, and biases. For example, at my son’s last Kung Fu lesson, one of the kids was acting out. He kept showing off, asking inappropriate questions, and pretending to fall while doing cartwheels. He was so annoying–to me.

During the water break, this kid tripped while running towards the water fountain. One of the other kids in class ran to him and said, “Oh my God, are you ok?”

At that moment, I saw into all of our hearts. The empathic kid obviously had a huge heart. The “annoying” kid had an innocent heart. My heart was jaded and cynical. I almost laughed with satisfaction when I saw the “annoying” kid trip.

When we are taught to judge others and ourselves by what we look like or how athletic we are, we often lose sight of heart. My Auntie Francis lived her entire life loving and serving others. She took care of her aging parents while taking care of us kids. Then she took care of the kids’ kids. Like many of the forgotten saints in our lives, she lived her life alone. She had a deformity in her arm that ostracized her from dating circles her entire life.

I wish someone besides our family could have recognized the heart, beauty, and purity of my Auntie Francis. My goal is to not let saints like my Auntie Francis go by unappreciated.

Tomas from Heartfelt2013.wordpress.com posted a wonderful video called “if we could see inside others’ hearts”:Life, in 4 min.” I’ve reposted it here.

Imagine if we combined empathy with looking through heart-tinted glasses.
Who would become our new heroes and celebrities? Who would our children worship as role models?

Thank you for reading, sharing, and/or smiling.

Who is your heart-tinted hero? Please share.

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My first glimpse into the horrors of war did not come until after college. On a surf trip to the Basque Country of Spain, I asked a local friend what I should do since the waves were flat. He said I should go visit Guernica.

“Why would I go there?” I asked.

“It’s the city depicted in Picasso’s painting,” he said raising both his hands high in the air.

I had no idea what he was talking about. I never took art history at UC Santa Barbara. To tell the truth, all I really cared about as an undergrad was getting “some tasty waves and a cool buzz.”

When I finally saw a print of Picasso’s painting, I buckled at the knees. Something about the look on the horses face captured my attention. This was the first time I had thought about war from the perspective of innocent civilians. I had loved war movies my whole life. From Tora, Tora, Tora to Platoon, I had seen them all. Yet all these films were from the point of view of the soldiers. Like most American boys, I played war as a child, Risk as a teen, and first person war video games as a young adult.

Walking around the Basque countryside near Guernica, I could feel the surprise, dread, shock, and suffering of those innocent villagers who were the first to be bombed from the sky. Suddenly, war didn’t seem so cool anymore.

Later in life, I saw those same expressions of dread, shock, and suffering in the photos of a Japanese mother holding her dying daughter after the bombing of Hiroshima and in the photo of 9 year old Phan Thi Kim Phuc after a napalm attack in Vietnam.

Then in 2001, I felt those feelings myself after the 9/11 attacks. Once again art, this time in the form of spoken word poetry, forced me to empathize with the victims of senseless violence. Listening to Suheir Hammad I started to realize that the real enemy is not a Muslim, a Nazi, a Red Chinese, or even a terrorist. The real enemy is hatred. The real enemy is war.

“Affirm life, Affirm life.”

A friend of mine has a three-types-of-people saying: “Those who make things happen, those who watch things happen, and those who say ‘What happened?’” I think about the confusion in the eyes of those who have been innocent victims of warfare and I know I have to be someone who makes things happen. I never want my wife, my sons, or anyone, for that matter, to ask in confusion “what happened?” as they hold the hands of the dying.

Bloggers for Peace is my way of making things happen. If I could paint like Picasso, I would create a new Guernica. If I could write like Suheir Hammad, I would spit my poetry of peace on every street corner. Instead, I blog, but my intentions are the same:

“Affirm life. Affirm life.”

Thank you for reading, sharing, and/or smiling.

How do you “affirm life”? Please share.

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“I’m allergic to the Sun”

Yet being in the sun is counter to modern codes of behavior. Just bask in the glow of that last statement for a few minutes.

Exposure to the sun is not only dangerous, but makes us ugly according to modern racist, classist, and paranoid beliefs. My cousin has a friend who claims to be allergic to the sun. That is like being allergic to God.

This whole scenario reminds me of Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. We are all prisoners in a cave staring at images projected on a wall which we mistake for reality. When someone does finally escape the cave into the real Light, we kill him when he comes back to free us.

In no way am I  advocating running outside naked and risking skin cancer, but I am calling for a daily dose of Vitamin S. The S stands for Spirit. How rich would our lives be if we got a daily dose of Spirit, of God, of Light?

Like so many of you, I am overly concerned with getting my daily doses of caffeine, text messages, Walking Dead, or Twitter, but I rarely think about exposing myself to Spirit everyday.

So here are 5 tips to increase our exposure to Spirit. Feel free to apply liberally.

1. “You spin me right round”

   My first memory of Spirit happened when I ran through the woods as a very young child. For some reason, I closed my eyes and stretched my arms out behind me. The wind blowing on my arms felt like God caressing and guiding me through the narrow forest path.

   Nowadays, I don’t run through the woods with my eyes closed much, but I spin in a circle with my arms outstretched like a Whirling Dervish. The Whirling Dervishes are a Sufi sect founded by the followers of the Persian poet and theologian Rumi. The story goes that Rumi was walking through the market place when he heard the goldbeaters pounding their gold and chanting in rhythm,  “There is none worthy of worship but Allah (God).” Rumi was so filled with happiness that he stretched out his arms and started spinning in a circle. I hope everyone feels touched by God whether they are spinning in circle, running through the woods, or listening to the rhythm of chanting goldbeaters, Hip Hop bands, or Taiko drummers.

2. Get a Suntan

   We need to get out in the sun, not just for vitamin D, but for vitamin S, as well. Go outside, even if you stay in the shade. Sit under a tree. Splash through a puddle. Listen intently to the wind. Try to see the exact color of a sunset’s last sliver.

3. Look into my eyes

   Spirit is everywhere if we dare to look. Can you recognize the Spirit in those around you? Look deeply into their eyes and see where love settles. Mother Teresa said about the poor and destitute she worked with, “”They are Jesus. Everyone is Jesus in a distressing disguise.” Can you see Jesus in the strangers you pass on the street? Can you see Jesus in the wretched or despicable souls you judge everyday?

4. Laugh with Children

   Before the birth of my first son, my sister-in-law told me that since babies just came from the arms of God, they have miraculous things to teach us. Children can oftentimes remember Spirit easier than adults who have long forgotten what God feels like. Spending time with children helps us re-member where we came from.

   When I listen to the laughter of my sons and their friends, everything is ok. The world is at peace. The Universe is smiling. Sometimes when my 3 year old grabs my ears and pulls me close, I can feel God’s love again.

5. Cry Out Loud

   In one of my favorite speeches of all time, Jimmy Valvano said:

   To me, there are three things we all should do every day. We should do this every day of our lives. Number one is laugh. You should laugh every day. Number two is think. You should spend some time in thought. And number three is, you should have your emotions moved to tears, could be happiness or joy. But think about it. If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that’s a full day. That’s a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you’re going to have something special.

   Since we got the thinking and the laughing taken care of, let’s focus on crying. Let’s let ourselves be moved to tears everyday. I just had tears welling up watching the Chariots of Fire clip above. I often allow myself to shed a tear when I read your blog posts. Sometimes when I hug my wife, I feel tears of gratitude bubble up. When our emotions are moved to tears, we know that Spirit is with us.

I’m not claiming to be any closer to Spirit or God than any of you dear readers. In a way, I’m writing this post to remind myself what is really important in my daily life.

Thank you for reading, sharing, and/or smiling.

How do you get your daily dose of Spirit? Please share.

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You’ll do for now, Daddy, but we want Mommy.

I know a lot of my readers are mothers and grandmothers. I bow down to you and hope you enjoy this holiday in your honor. I know that many of you work, raise children, and blog which is like having three full-time jobs at once. You are my heroes and you inspire me to make the world a better place.

Women and mothers have been working two to three “jobs” for as long as I can remember. My mom was a Den Mother, Amway Salesperson, Fruit Stand manager, Homemaker, House cleaner, Cook, Dishwasher, Recycler, Chauffeur, Tutor, and Church Volunteer for most of my childhood. My paternal Grandmother labored in the peet moss of the San Joaquin Delta from sunrise to sundown and still managed to feed, clothe, and tend to her husband, children, grandchildren, and, later, her great grandchildren.

My wife runs a successful private practice as a psychologist. For a while, she was moonlighting–running her private practice while still working for Kaiser–and working 60 hours a week. I took care of our two sons, but no matter how much time I spent with them, sometimes they just wanted their “Mommy.” On these nights, my wife would have to snuggle into their tiny beds, sneak out in the middle of the night, and be dressed and ready for work by 8 am on the following morning.

Being raised, cared for, and supported by amazing women my whole life had made me an ingrate. I just assumed that women were suppose to take care of everyone, even themselves, when someone got sick. I assumed that women nurtured the children while contributing to the financial needs of the family. “She has the same degrees as I do.” And let’s not forget staying in shape to stroke my male ego.

Recently, I’ve learned to empathize and feel compassion for others. The more I empathize with women, the more I realize that I owe them a lifetime of service and compassion. So on this Mother’s Day 2013, I’m not just buying the perfunctory once-a-year bouquet of flowers. I’m making a promise to honor and respect women everyday for the rest of my life.

To all the incredible women in my life, thank you for your patience, forgiveness, and lovingkindness. I am and will forever be your humble servant.

{{{Hugs}}} Kozo

Thank you for reading, sharing, and/or smiling.

Have you taken women for granted? Have you felt taken for granted as a mother, woman, or superhero? Please share.

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Have you ever noticed how hard it is to be compassionate while you are in a rush?

When I am in a hurry, I get this feeling like I am leaning forward and I need to keep moving not matter what. When something inhibits my progress I get tense, frustrated, and, sometimes, angry.

My sons seem to slow down on purpose when they sense that I am in a rush. Like many of you experienced parents have told me over and over, our children are here not just to learn from us, but also to teach us.

After numerous episodes of screaming, time-outs, and dragging, I’ve finally learned to slow down. Does it really matter if my son is late to kindergarten? Will it adversely affect my 3 year old’s brain development if he misses one “Circle Time” at his preschool?

Part of the problem is that I’ve always been a very punctual person. Even when I was 12 years old, I used to get up at 4 am to deliver newspapers because one crazy old couple insisted that I “porched” their paper by 5 am. I prided myself on my punctuality.

Can you hear the problem? Pride, ego, inflexibility.

My new goal is not to be a punctual person, but a compassionate person instead. A famous study called the Good Samaritan experiment conducted in the 1970s suggests how being in a rush decreases compassion. Seminary students at Princeton University were assigned to deliver a talk on the Good Samaritan. On their way to the presentation, the students passed a person slumped over and groaning. Only 10 percent of the students stopped to help when they were late, while six times as many helped when they were not in a hurry.

We live in a world that seems to be running on fast forward 24/7/365. One of the reasons I choose to meditate everyday is to disconnect from the rat race. I can tell the days that I need to meditate more because I hear a voice in my head say, “Maybe I’ll just sit for 30 minutes today; I’ve got so much to get done.” Will shaving 10 minutes off my meditation really make the difference in accomplishing everything I “have to do”?

“Chill, Daddy. It’s only kindergarten.”

Much of my stress to be productive stems from my future goals to be able to provide for my family. But what good is providing money for my family if I cannot shower them with compassion? I don’t want to be that stressed-out father who buys his son the biggest ice cream cake available without realizing his son is lactose intolerant.

I’m not saying we should be irresponsible and show up late for everything (No, Honey, I’m not talking specifically about you). But on the days where you happen to be running late, what if you chose to cultivate compassion for yourself and others? What if you drove slower than the speed limit and let other cars in your lane. You’re already late. What is a few more minutes going to save?

I say we schedule in buffer time. We can call it compassion time. When I pick up my son at school, I put aside a good 30 minutes for playing around, throwing paper airplanes, saying goodbye to his friends, and talking about dead bugs on the sidewalk. Yesterday, his teacher looked stressed and asked me if I could help re-arrange the classroom for a presentation. Since I had buffer time, I helped move tables, vacuum the floor, and arrange chairs. Maybe next time my son is late, she will show some compassion and let him slide.

Thank you for reading, sharing, and/or smiling.

Do you think about punctuality or compassion on a daily basis? Are they compatible? Why or why not? Please share.

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To start this month’s post on gratitude, I want to thank everyone who clicks on this blog. Your presence, your comments, your {{{hugs}}}, and your support give me hope everyday that we can and will make a difference. I feel so blessed that I have found a community devoted towards peace, love, understanding, and compassion. Thank you for everything you do.

This is my monthly post of things I am grateful for. Feel free to post what you are grateful for in the comments. The more gratitude we give, the more love and peace we will experience.

April 2013

Thank you for the moist tropical smell of my son’s breath that reminds me of Hawaii; how my 3 year old likes to undress in public for no reason; the couple’s business meeting I had with my wife; picnics at the library;  my wife realizing that she is vitamin D deficient.

Thank you for Earth Day;  vibrational integrity; positive feedback; old friends who become new friends; the humbleness to listen to others.

this black and white bracelet is a compassion reminder. You flip the bracelet from black to white every day after you do something compassionate.

Thank you for new post ideas; my son’s patient kindergarten teacher; my son asking if we can invite God to his birthday party; bunk beds; my “compassion it” bracelet.

Thank you for daily check-ins with my wife; after school playtime with my sons; the Ziggy Marley song we sing in church; rising consciousness in the world; the higher vibrations shared with my blogging friends.

Thank you for how my son uses Wow as a complete sentence; playing in dirt; youth sports; volunteer coaches; corn dogs.

Thank you for how my youngest son says, “I can’t smell” when he has a stuffy nose; Amazon Prime; the ability to change lives, especially my own; catching myself judging others; flying kites.

Thank you for my post about “giving up trying to go viral” going kinda viral; realizing that presence is the most important thing I can give to my wife and children; fruit gummies; phone calls from my working wife; Alison reminding me why we blog–to spread love.

Thank you for alone time with my wife; left-overs and microwave oven; learning how to clean my cache; Sofia Siberia back in the blogosphere; playing soccer with my son and his friends.

Thank you for field trips for my sons; 3 am blogging; car naps; how my sons greet each other–Hello, Fox. Hey, Jett; all the love being shared on Everyday Gurus.

Thank you for Fridays; my new productivity planner; my realization that there are unlimited pieces of the pie of life; my son’s little crushes; riding bikes to school with my sons.

Thank you for my dysfunctional, but accepting extended family; new career opportunities; insights into emotional detachment due to Patriarchy; cousins for my sons to play with; all the work my parents did to give me the opportunities I have.

Thank you for morning meditation with my son sleeping in my lap; learning to give at church; new opportunities to learn new skills; an undying optimism; the realization that God don’t make junk: humans make junk with their judgments.

“Daddy, what do tigers eat?”
“Other animals.”
“No, they eat cheetos!”

Thank you for my 3 year old telling me that tigers eat Cheetos; losing my temper to remind me to practice peace at all times; my son’s art class and his love of creativity; my creative enthusiasm; my focus on creating a new me every moment of every day.

Thank you for my older son’s Kung Fu skill; 30 minute hugging sessions after my 3 year old’s naps; visits from my creative muse; the way Life challenged me to change and grow;  business meetings with my wife.

Thank you for prophesies that are coming true; how both my sons are sleeping together right now; the heart-felt email from Anyes; perfectly timed posting on acceptance by Karen and Zen Doe; reading in the park.

Thank you for happiness with my sons; my return to video production; my past mistakes for motivating me to be a better person; the love I share with my wife on a  daily basis; In and Out Burger.

Thank you for the day I got to spend with my wife; finding my niche; picnics at the library;  learning to lose without bitterness; fresh strawberries from the Farmer’s Market.

Thank you for my 3 year old son’s curiosity: “Daddy, how do astronauts go poo-poo?”; bulldog puppies; water guns and water balloons on a hot day; sleeping through the night; Gene Wilder’s Willie Wonka.

Thank you for my wife feeling better after taking vitamin D; strider bikes;  long walks in our neighborhood; a call from my dear friend, Nancy; my cousin’s critical thinking.

sleeping with my son

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The thought kept ping-ponging in my mind after shoving my bawling 5 year old son into his kindergarten class.

This morning he decided that he wanted to ride his scooter to school rather than his bike. I told him that the bike was quicker, but he started whining, so I let him take the scooter. 18 minutes into trek, he starts whining again, “Daddy, I’m tired. I want to stop.”

We are 10 minutes away from the school which starts in 8 minutes.

Happier times before scooters became an instrument of torture.

“I told you to take the bike. You better hurry up; we only have 8 minutes to get there,” I yelled while continuing to walk at a brisk pace.

For the next 10 minutes, my son screamed at the top of his lungs, “Daaaaddddy. Stoooop. Daaaaddddy. I’m tired.”

By the time we got to the school, all the other kids were already in the classroom and all the parents were staring at my son who had thrown his scooter down and started screaming, “I don’t want to go to school.”

I did what any father would do–grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the classroom.

When he came out following me, I yelled, “You better get back in there, or I’m canceling your birthday party.”

Then I jumped on the scooter and preceded to ride home. After two blocks, my thighs started to burn like I was doing squats shouldering 200 lbs. I finally had to stop and just walk after 5 minutes on that tortuous toy.

My son’s legs must have been on fire after 25 minutes of continuous pushing. His cries for help were legitimate. Why couldn’t I hear them?

Walking home I realized that as man, I have been programmed to ignore cries for help. In fact, my first reaction to a whine is anger.

“Shut up before I give you something to really cry about” was how my cries of pain were consoled when I was a kid.

I thought about how I asked the referee “High kicking?” with a smirk on my face when I roundhouse kicked another 12 year old  kid in the face during a soccer game.

I thought about how I yelled at my wife the exact number of dirty diapers I changed compared to her when she was suffering postpartum depression after the birth of our first son.

In 1979, Dustin Hoffman in Kramer vs. Kramer asked, “What law is it that says that a woman is a better parent simply by virtue of her sex?” 34 years later, I realize that the answer to that question is “the law of Patriarchy” (although I also realize that assuming women are “naturally” better caregivers is a part of patriarchy).

Patriarchy makes men less compassionate towards the suffering of others. In a dog-eat-dog world, we can’t stop to help others. We got places to go and people to see. The person you help today might be the person who beats you tomorrow.

I hate to admit it, but one of my favorite movies is Top Gun. When Maverick refuses to engage after the death of his best friend Goose, we mentally throw our hands up in the air just like the Commanding Officer in the film. “God damn it, Maverick.”

But when he shrugs off his feelings and reengages the fight we all applaud and cheer like in every other Tom Cruise or Bruce Willis movie. Don’t even get me started on Arnold Schwartzennegger and Keanu Reeves. I used to think that they were bad actors, but then I realized that they are just good men–completely detached from their emotions.

Clinical counselor, therapist, and blogger, Scott Williams claims that the biggest complaint he gets about men is that they are not emotionally available. “The one thing men generally give the least is emotional connection.” Although I do cultivating compassion meditation everyday, I still refused to empathize with my son, no matter how loud he screamed.

In my defense, very few of the images of men I was raised with reacted to pain and suffering with compassion and empathy. Pain and suffering were obstacles you had to overcome to be the best you could be.

Like the boys in Steubenville and Saratoga, I’ve felt just like the younger private in A Few Good Men. “What did we do wrong? We did nothing wrong.”

“Yeah, we did. We were suppose to fight for people who couldn’t fight for themselves”…like passed out women and children in physical pain. The writer Aaron Sorkin had it right: There are only a “Few Good Men.” I’m working towards being one of the Few, the Proud, the Compassionate.

Thank you for reading, sharing, and/or smiling.

Do you think that men are socialized to be less compassionate than women? Please share.

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“Sorry, we couldn’t make your daughter’s dance recital, but my son had a soccer game.”

“No I didn’t, Daddy. You said that you didn’t want to watch bad dancing and hang around with crazy dance moms.”

“Thanks, son.”

I just witnessed one of these reveals this morning. As some of you faithful readers know, we participate in Walk to School Wednesdays on the first Wednesday of every month. Since both of my sons now ride bikes, we trek the whole 20 minutes to school, passing a ton of cars about a block away from the school.

I used to get mad that parents would try to cheat the system by parking a block away just to get a free pencil and be qualified for the rumored end of the year prize, but now I bless these parents with lovingkindness.

When we got up to the woman who was handing out the confirmation slips, one of the boys who she was handing a slip to said, “What’s this for?”

“It’s for Walk to School Wednesdays. Because you walked to school, you can give it to your teacher and get a prize.”

“But I didn’t walk…” Unfortunately, the poor kid was shut up by his mother who quickly grabbed the ticket and pulled him away.

Walking home I realized that these parents are missing the whole point. The purpose of Walk to School Wednesday is not to get a free pencil that the teachers usually forget to hand out. It isn’t even to get a big prize at the end of the year.

The purpose of this program is to get exercise and spend some quality time with your children on a beautiful Spring morning. At the end of the year, even if my son got a free bike (which he won’t, since we attend public school in a bankrupt state), it would pale in comparison to seeing his face light up every week as he asks, “It’s Wednesday, Daddy. Can I ride my bike to school today?”

Debajyoti_Das / Foter.com / CC BY-SA

This confusion about what is the real prize reminds me of what someone said to me when I told them about my daily gratitude practice. “Yeah, I tried that Rhonda Byrne sh#t a few years ago, but my standard of living didn’t increase one bit.”

Although in The Magic, Rhonda Byrne does call gratitude “the money magnet,” the real purpose of gratitude is to make your life richer, not just your bank account. We always seem to be obsessed with that “rumored prize” at the end of the journey that may or may not exist instead of appreciating the gifts of the present.

After making one of these realizations, I usually look in the mirror and see the biggest hypocrite. Today was no exception. Although we have over 150 Bloggers for Peace publishing wonderful posts every month, I’ve been coveting the “rumored prize” at the end of the journey. “Why hasn’t peace gone viral? Why haven’t any of these amazing posts gotten Freshly Pressed? Why hasn’t Yoko Ono jumped on board?”

Today, I realized that World Peace might just be that “rumored prize” that may or may not exist. Maybe we need struggle and strife in our world to help us cultivate compassion, empathy, and lovingkindness. God knows that John Lennon, Martin Luther King Jr., Gandhi, and Mother Teresa did thousands of times more for peace than I have done, yet they never saw World Peace in their life times.

Today, my focus changes from the big prize to the daily practice. I may never see World Peace, but I will definitely experience peace of mind, peace in marriage, peaceful children, and, maybe, peace in my community. In fact, if my community is the blogosphere, I’ve already been blessed with a peaceful community. Thank you for being a part of that peace. {{{hugs}}} Kozo

This is a video that Gina at Professions for Peace shared with me that reminds me of the thousands of peacemakers who have been working tirelessly for peace before I was even born.

Thank you for reading, sharing, and/or smiling.

Do you find yourself coveting the “rumored prize” while missing the gift of the present? Why or why not? Please share.

Related articles

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Over 550 people have liked Bloggers for Peace on WordPress and Facebook. People like what we are doing. Let’s keep it up. I realized last week that finding peace is the channel I have been searching for my entire life. My existence now has purpose, drive, and meaning. When I had a cushy job, I was counting the days until I could retire, but with this new undertaking, I don’t want to do anything else. I just want to bring peace. I know some of you feel the same way, and I thank you for everything you do. 

To help inspire the Bloggers for Peace (B4Peace), we will have a Monthly Peace Challenge. To participate, tag your post with B4Peace and make sure you copy your URL to the Linkz collection. Anyone who completes all twelve Monthly Peace Challenges will receive a Free B4Peace T-shirt.

chrisjohnbeckett / Art Photos / CC BY-NC-ND

For the month of May, we will focus on art. I believe that art has the ability to transform the soul. If art can change a soul, then it can change the world. What piece of art makes you a more peaceful person?

• Create a piece of art that brings peace to the world and post it on your blog.
• Publish a photo, painting, film clip, poem, sculpture, music video, dance video, or book excerpt that brings peace into your life. Explain how the art makes you a more peaceful person.
• Use a photo or piece of art as the catalyst for a short story of 100 words or less. I stole this idea from Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers.
• Be creative. That’s it. I know you guys are pro-peace, so whatever you do that is creative will meet the challenge.
• Post anything about the intersection of art and peace.

Don’t forget to add your post to the Linkz collection. Here is how:

• Copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the link below. It’s the drunk blue frog smiling for peace. Click on it and follow directions.
• Go visit this site to read and comment on other posts related to this Monthly Peace Challenge.

Related articles

• Monthly Peace Challenge: Marching towards Forgiveness (everydaygurus.com)
• Monthly Peace Challenge: Giveaway (everydaygurus.com)
• (Fre)e Cards: Make Peace, Kids (thequeencreative.wordpress.com)