#17: Peace by Pieces

Peace by Pieces 

I’ve been home for three weeks on winter break from the University of Florida. It’s been a bit chillier than I expected. Brutally cold actually. Yet even though the skin on my face now feels like sandpaper and my chapped lips hurt and the top of my hands are cracking, even bleeding, I love going to Rockwood every chance I get. Rockwood is a state park near my house. The forty-minute loop I walk with my dog Sam is revitalizing. The view of the sunset melting into the hudson river is gratifying. The calm deer in the tall grass, now snow, provides me peace of mind, and the way Sam’s ears flap as she trots ahead brings joy to my saddest thoughts. 

I tend to go here by myself when I am upset—it provides the tranquil space I need to think, breathe, and search for resolutions, whether I find them or not.  

My absolute favorite day at rock wood was on one of my entirely worst days this past summer. Really pessimistic thoughts were flooding my head and I was extremely overwhelmed.

“It all comes in waves,” I always tell myself. But I couldn't seem to find refuge from all the negativity drowning me that day. So Rockwood I went. 

About fifteen minutes into the loop, I saw a man of about 70 years old that I have had conversations with a few times in the past. He walks his dog alone there a lot too. We stopped in our tracks and acknowledged each other. I felt a wave of relief wash over me as we greeted each other. He speaks very quietly and his voice trembles with frailty. We talked for much longer this time—twenty minutes or so. It’s like he knew I needed it. Maybe he had noticed the glassy look in my eyes or maybe I was just having a really bad hair day. Either way I think he knew I was a bit of a mess. I told him my thoughts. I shared some stories.  

We said goodbye. Sam proceeded to trot in front of me. Towards the end of the loop, we ended up crossing paths again—unintentionally. I laughed and said hello once more. Then he pulled something out of his pocket—a four-leaf clover. He said he had just found it and wanted me to have it because he was glad to have ran into me again. This time, the encounter was very short because the tension forming in my throat stopped the words. So after walking away I sat on a bench near the water, held it, and cried a little. 

I haven't seen that old man since that time. But I’d love to hear his story, just as he heard mine. To be listened to, and to be a listener—that’s important to me. That’s important for humankind. 

Sometimes all we need is someone to talk to. Whether that means a close friend or complete stranger, there is some real power in human interaction and small gestures. To heal our wounds, perhaps we have to trust that peace of mind comes piece by piece. Or in my case, clover by clover. 

Amanda Posa:amandaposaj@gmail.com 

I am currently in my third year at the University of Florida. I am studying Education and Sustainability Studies as I have a deep passion for both teaching children and for caring for the environment. I seek work, people, and environments that align with my core values of empathy, compassion, and conscientiousness. My biggest joy is when I can be of sincere help to someone or something that needs me. Whether that means putting in great efforts to go green, supporting the earth and its resources, or opening my ears to listen and arms to hug someone who needs support, I always find my motivation when I see betterment due in part by my actions.