The Way

There he was, 
squatting down,
spray-painting the sidewalk white.

He was covering an F-bomb written in huge letters (and some accompanying penises) that someone had painted on the sidewalk several days before.

Full Disclosure. Occasionally I swear. Not habitually, but sometimes.  I’m an English major, I love language, and frankly, every once in a while, a harsh word seems to fit the intensity of a particular situation.

BUT

But when I run the greenbelt trails in the early morning, seeking the sense of Oneness, of Union, I often feel there, I DEFINITELY DO NOT enjoy running over the F-bomb in four-feet tall letters (or penises, for that matter), and I definitely don’t like having to run over it EVERY DAY because it’s been spray-painted there.

SO

“Thank you,” I call out to the painting man.

“Probably some middle-schoolers,” opines Bev, who is keeping the man company.

“I guess it makes them feel powerful, painting it big and bold there,” I offer.

And the man 
looks up at me
with a light
in his eyes
and smiles.

Then he answers me, slowly, 

“Maybe. Anyway, I’m taking care of it for them today.”

---

This is The Way. 
This is The Way of it. 

Peacemakers move through our world, “taking care” of our mistakes in judgment, our lesser impulses…

Cleaning up
Painting over

No judgment
just…
Gentle correction.

Living examples of a different way to be.