One of the things that I love about travel is the ability to think deeply without the pressures of my normal routine. Being up in airplane I frequently gain perspective I lose on the ground.

Tonight, I am lying awake in my friends’ house. It has been a good day, one of seeing long time friends, individually and in larger groups. Many people re-arranged schedules to come to see me and that is gratifying. It was a chance to make a difference in the world, even if it was small, drink some coffee, eat some ice cream, relax with friends, and laugh.

The day began with a delicious breakfast, fresh fruit, half an English muffin, scrambled eggs. It was served in one of my favorite rooms. A sun room with windows on three sides and a sky light. I have sat in that room for many meals watching the changing light and the deep green of the woods. It is like being in a tree house. A feeling of peace settled over me.

Later I was at the Habitat for Humanity event which you read about yesterday. I moved tires and garbage, raked debris. Somehow singing, “If I Had a Hammer” choked me up. And I felt peace as I worked side by side with friends, some whom I have known for years, others whom I just met. Jewish, Christian, Muslim.

Later still I had lunch with my ordaining rabbi. I smiled as he thumbed through my book and we celebrated my accomplishment. We slipped easily into conversation and we enjoyed talking about people we know, what I might say for the holidays, what retirement is like for him.

Even later I saw some thirty people at the Java Room. Yes, one more cup of coffee. Iced, this time. Then some of us moved to Bertuccis, a local pizza place for dinner. A chance to catch up more fully with a smaller group. And then Sully’s. They still have the best ice cream. I sat outside, watching the sky turn from deep blue to intense pink. Words don’t really capture it. Neither did my camera. We talked and laughed, told old stories and older jokes. That group has a shared history over many years. I realized I don’t laugh much in Chicago. People had commented all evening that they had never seen me look happier, that a great weight seemed to be lifted from me. (I wondered if it was an act but I don’t think so) Eating my Almond Joy ice cream, I wondered if peace is joy. I even wondered if I had found next year’s communal blogging project. What brings you joy?

Joy is a part of peace. But that is only part of it. But lying here in this bed, I found myself crying. Why? I just explained that it had been a good day and it was. Was I sad that I was leaving Boston again? That the people in this house are moving to Florida and I might never be in this house that has brought me so much joy, so much calm, so much peace again?

I was trying to answer a burning question. What does it mean for me to be a peaceful person. I tried to answer it earlier in the week. I think, like David said earlier, it is about remembering to respect the other. To see the image of the Divine in the other—even those we might not especially like.

But it is still more than that.

Earlier in the week I realized that it is about managing or controlling my anger. And that neither of those words is perfect. Maybe understanding my anger is closer. Understanding it so I don’t lash out inappropriately—usually at the ones I care the most about. Lying here, alone, I realize that I miss Simon and wish he were here.

I have a ring—my wedding ring—it is a copy of the ring Paul Revere gave to his second wife. We bought it at the MFA for $115 and I still love it. I love its simplicity. I love its elegant nature and I love its historicity. Inside it says “Live contented,” just as Revere engraved his ring to his wife. So maybe peace is contentment. Then I had it. It is the old translation of Shalom Rav from the Union Prayer Book One:

“Grant us peace Thy most precious gift, O Thou eternal source of peace. Bless our country, that it may be a stronghold of peace. May contentment reign within its borders, bonds of friendship throughout the world. Plant virtue in every soul and love for Thy name in every heart. Give us peace.”

This was my mother’s favorite prayer. It was her Confirmation speech. She read it every Rosh Hashanah at the dinner table and she read it at Sarah’s Bat Mitzvah.

There is a connection between contentment and peace. Joy and happiness are good—but they are the peaks. Laughing with friends is good. Contentment is the goal—more of a constant, more of a balance. Out of contentment comes peace and the ability to be secure. If I can be secure with myself, I do not live in fear. If I do not live in fear then I can be at peace.

It was a very good trip. I can sleep now and wake up ready to return to Chicago, ready to resume my normal routine, ready to work again for peace, ready to lead. Bring it on.