a peace rant by antoinette nora claypoole

Watershed Years: a peace rant
by antoinette nora claypoole

“...there will come a day when kings can know love can grow”
--Donovan
from the 60’s song
“To Susan on the West Coast waiting”

Okay. Sometimes a bear in the park doesn’t sing English. She cannot understand “please love my children. don’t eat my babies.” She has never talked about Atlantis and peace. If Ms. Bear grabs one of our children on the Lithia swings. You know. We’ll try the advice on those signs. Which explain about not looking bear in the eyes. Walking away. All of it. But if she grabs our babies anyway. We’ll do anything to stop her. Including killing.

Horrible. And with that gesture, like the plumes of dropped bombs, a big question arises. Is us attacking bear called violence? Is that desire to survive working against the dream of peace?

These are difficult questions which press against us as we consider UK sky terror, Hezbollah acting on their mission of killing the Jewish people, and the Israeli United Nations peace accords, again. What comes to mind is...... Crazy Horse killed people. To protect his way of life. To take care of the children, to keep them from the doctrine of manifest destiny. The concept, the irony of “fighting for peace” IS one which is ancient. Alexandar the Great in his Middle East wars. Paradoxically dreamed peace for all people, while murdering. Comparatively, Sappho. Lesbos. Peace incarnate. So , how DO we, in these times of pressing violence, maintain the dream. The vision of Peace?

Here in Ashland we have often believed in the impossible. This watershed, this town has always been a healing spot. For tribal people of all directions came here long before the white settlers. Tribes came here for healing ceremonies. They prayed and released the pain of lost dreams. Here. Visited together and beckoned peace. For those few days, years, centuries. In the springs, under the cedars. The Shasta--who some believe are descendants of Lemurian times--- Modoc, Tikilma all. Healed the wounds of many wars. Before this place was called Ashland. It had this history of bringing people from all four directions together. And making circles out of splinters. The trees have always been medicine.

And so it seems that ancient impulse prevails. Today. As seen by this emergent Clear Actions newsletter, (once called Nuclear Reactions) this Peace House still alive and dreaming.

Nearly 25 years ago Ashlanders began the Peace House as part of a movement to stop nuclear waste and weapon transports through our streets. It was the time of Water for Life concerts, Jackson Browne and Indians touring the West, waking people from the big Nuke sleep. For a quarter century Peace House has kept that dream alive.

It is for us, now, to keep Peace House. alive. That we have this place, this community to create peace in times of war. We are here. We are blessed. And next we know we have to work to keep it happening. Do whatever it takes. To survive. Just like us the bear and our park.
We will seek peace while staying alive inside the truth. That threats exist. Our hearts and vision will sustain what greed and power try to destroy. We will not go quietly. As the Indians have known since the settlers arrived. We are ALL still here. Part of the prophecies, some say. The work of survival. The dream of Peace. Is one which happens as self and other become One. Here in Ashland Peace House mediates that necessity.

And so, in my own simple way, as an artist and writer, I celebrate the earnest work of Peace House. After all these years. And again. Become a part of it, yes. John Lennon. “There are no problems, only solutions.” There is always more. To do. And sing. And be. We are the love we are waiting for.


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