Oops, a day late here - the vigil was on time. 5 pm found us gathering in the shade of the lovely cherry trees. 15 folks to stand for peace and listen to various shared tales. The community, which is the vigil, thrives on the small conversations; they are the threads weaving us together. I am noticing this flow of words today as I am thinking much about silence; wishing I'd remembered the virtues of silence yesterday when the angry young man brought his well honed aggression into my (our) faces. I used to stand with Women in Black in NYC and there learned that silence is strength in the face of hostility. That hour of silence in the midst of rush hour on 5th Avenue taught me how to let words dissipate into the air. I can't imagine this vigil in silence for 5 hours a week; but I can reclaim the promise to not escalate tension with my words.
I am a bit haunted by the stance the young soldier took as he confronted us - very much the posture of someone expecting danger and accustomed to using his body language to intimidate. Was I seeing what the Afghans see when an American soldier talks to them? Minus the armaments, of course.
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