My grandfather took me to the fish pond on the farm when I was about seven, and he told me to throw a stone into the water. He told me to watch the circles created by the stone. Then he asked me to think of myself as that stone.
"You may create lots of splashes in your life, but the waves that come from those splashes will disturb the peace of all your fellow creatures," he said. "Remember that you are responsible for what you put in your circle and that circle will also touch many other circles."
"You will need to live in a way that allows the good that comes from your circle to send the peace of that goodness to others. The splash that comes from anger or jealousy will send those feelings to other circles. You are responsible for both."
That was the first time I realized that each person creates the inner peace or discord that flows out into the world. We cannot create world peace if we are riddled with inner conflict, hatred, doubt, or anger.
We radiate the feelings and thoughts that we hold inside, whether we speak them or not. Whatever is splashing around inside of us is spilling out into the world,creating beauty or discord with all other circles of life.
I was up the next morning before the October sunrise,and away though the wild and the woodland. The rising of the sun was noble in the cold and warmth of it; peeping down the spread of light, he raised his shoulder heavily over the edge of grey mountain and wavering length of upland. Beneath his gaze the dew-fogs dipped, and crept to the hollow places; then stole away in line and column,holding skirts, and clinging subtly at the sheltering comers where rock hung over grassland, while the brave lines of the hills came forth, one beyond other gliding .
The woods arose in folds, like drapery of awakened mountains, stately with a depth of awe, and memory of the tempests Autumn's mellow hand was upon them, as they owned already, touched with gold and fed and olive, and their joy towards the sun was less to a bridegroom than a father.
Yet before the floating impress of the woods could clear itself, suddenly the gladsome light leaped over hill and valley, casting amber, blue, and purple, and a tint of rich red rose; according to the scene they lit on, and the curtain flung around; yet all alike dispelling fear and the cloven hoof of darkness, all on the wings of hope advancing,and proclaiming, "God is here!" then life and joy sprang reassured from every crouching hollow; every flower, and bud and bird had a fluttering sense of them; and all the flashing of God's gaze merged into soft beneficence
So, perhaps, shall break upon us that eternal morning,when crag and chasm shall be no more, neither hill and valley, nor great unvintaged ocean; but all things shall arise,and shine in the light of the Father's countenance, because itself is risen.