karin dancy

Our second grader and I recently inched through evening work traffic to witness the Walk for Peace*. We landed at a typically busy traffic intersection on the monks’ route, with time to spare. After finding an opening on the crowded sidewalk, we huddled together and waited.

I expected a large crowd. I expected a long wait as the monks slowly made their way toward us. I expected to be cold while waiting. And all those expectations were spot on.

What I didn’t expect was how much the monks’ quiet presence would stay with me long after our return home.

Smiling kindly, they walked steadily, just inches away from us. They weren’t loud. They weren’t trying to persuade or provoke. They simply walked, step by step, carrying peace with their bodies.

What struck me most was not only their silence, but the way others responded to it. As they passed, the crowd became subdued. Conversations softened. People stood still, many with hands folded or heads bowed, offering respect and gratitude without being asked.

In that stillness, I reflected on what the monks were giving up: comfort, convenience, predictability, rest. And yet, there was nothing strained about them. Their humble presence didn’t demand attention. Instead, they offered only gentleness and peace.

Their example reminds me that Divine trust often looks like calm strength. Not forceful or defensive, just faithful. A strength that slows the space around us, instead of stirring it up. A presence that invites reverence rather than reaction.

They are still walking, some wearing shoes, some barefoot, others with only socks or very simple footwear, all as part of their personal spiritual practice. And, at the time of this writing, they are walking in the aftermath of a winter storm. Their humble journey is proof positive that sacred trust is often quieter than the noise around us and stronger than it appears at first glance.

I don’t write this from a place with answers neatly tied up with a bow. I write it because sometimes I need reminders, too. This world is mighty loud right now. Wrestling with fear and grief is front and center most days for many of us.

But, the good news? We don’t have to rush past our fears or grief, especially when the world feels anything but peaceful. I’m learning that sacred trust doesn’t have to be big or bold. Perhaps it’s enough to begin simply where we are . . .  to show up gently, to walk steadily, to refuse to give fear or grief the final word, even when the way forward feels unclear.

That kind of quiet, Divine trust may not make headlines. But, I believe it’s the kind that helps us travel lighter on our own journeys.

Walk With Me:
How are you being gentle with your own journey in this noisy world?

* Walk for Peace Photo Credit: instagram.com/walkforpeace.usa/?hl=en