The life you are living is both luxurious and common. It consists of a tiny part of a perfume infused with rare oils from the corners of the earth, but mainly of the base layer, the ground we all deserve to stand on.
Fifteen hundred years ago, PEACE WEAVING was a vital strand in our culture. In early societies women, the weavers of cloth and clothes and furnishings, also wove the fabric of society. They wove words to create peace.
That was their job. With skilful word weaving, kind deeds and the exchange of gifts women tried to strengthen the bonds that joined people. And men consulted them about ways of avoiding blood feuds and battles. Even then, some people saw that war was a waste of society's most precious resource, people.
Peace is living without fear.
Fifteen hundred years ago, this truth was a part of the daily lives of people in early societies. Back then, peace weaving wasn’t a slogan—it was connection and care. Women, who spun threads into cloth, also wove together the fragile ties of community, used their voices, their presence, their stories and gifts to heal rifts and prevent wars. Their role was not decorative—it was essential. And their peace-making was not soft. It was strategic, tender, and wise.
They understood something we’re in danger of forgetting: that peace starts in the everyday.
In listening, in choosing healing over harm.
Peace should be our starting point, not our stretch goal. It should be the very least we offer one another. A safe place, free of fear. A society that doesn’t sacrifice its people for power.
Trainquility doesn’t begin at summits or in treaties. It starts in daily life—in homes where children aren’t afraid, in cities where difference isn’t a danger, in countries where dignity isn’t reserved for a few.
Peace is not a luxury.
It’s the minimum.
And anything less is not progress. It’s a loss.