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Voices from Standing Rock

Voices from Standing Rock

I traveled to many places this summer.  8500 miles by car, 40 states, speaking with hundreds of people... However, no moment was more powerful and telling than the time I spent at Standing Rock last month. Right now, it is 3 o’clock in the morning, back in San Francisco, and I wake from a heavy heart with dreams of the reservation, what is happening today, and concern for the people I so respect.

When we first approached the road leading to the camp, there was a police blockade which instructed us to “go around”. Going around in this case meant another 3 hours to get there. We did.

When we finally found our way to the camp, it was pouring rain. Within moments, I was helped into a garbage bag to cover my body, given a warm meal and shelter from the storm. An hour later, the storm broke and people were back to work. What could have been a chaotic environment was not. There were make shift signs and structures, campfires and kitchens being erected, as well as sparse resources doled out in an orderly fashion. 

Covered with mud, we all found our way to assist in the effort to build a community. The best word I can use to describe it is “flow”. There was a flow to this massive endeavor. Having a flow does not take away the seriousness that underlay the reason for being there or the breadth of emotions that were visible. We were visitors, but welcomed as part of the whole. The words “my brother”, “my sister” fell on my ears with a depth of meaning I had not experienced before. 

In my travels, I get to play the role of witness. I sit. I listen. I hold a space in my own heart for people to reveal what they need to hear themselves say. 

 As I sat there, on this land, in the mud and locking eyes with each individual, I became aware it's me that was being held and seen. As they tell their stories, I have a sense of being rooted to the ground, like I can’t move. I don’t want to move. I feel at ease… at peace. We are there and we can feel the sense of resistance that is building up, about to descend around this camp but there is a feeling of grace as well. There was an overriding feeling of grace. 

I don’t want to leave. I’ve spent the summer speaking of peace and the greatest sense of it that I've experienced was holding this ground, at this moment, with these people. As one man named Chuasa said, “Western culture goes on. It’s there. We are here. We are grounded here.”

In cities, it has become commonplace to hear people speak about finding their tribe. It is a modern day quest to find unity and a sense of belonging. The word is also meant to be about a group who is dependent on the land for their livelihood. This is a key component of what it means to be in a tribe. I feel that this is where we have gotten lost. The land and our identity have become separate. We rent. We OWN. We have no sense of its true value and history.

I am struck by all that has been taken away from these tribes and yet their association to the land has not faded, even remotely. “Ownership” does not have meaning. They are one and the same with the land and will protect her, just as a mother does a child or a child who will protect an elder. The land is a family member, who should not be harmed or must be nursed and cared for when ill.

Tonight, I sit in my bed with its clean sheets and I know that there are people who are out there holding the land and keep her safe for us all. 

We will be sharing their voices this coming week so you can all experience who is standing behind those banners and who we will owe a great debt for keeping this country safe from itself…

I send you love… my sister, my brother.



Words We Need to Hear... and Heed.

Words We Need to Hear... and Heed.

Today, I am eager to hear the word's of the Elder Statesman (or Woman).  Someone who from their experience and perspective and care can inspire and set us on a course of unity, as well as compassion for what we all hold dear.

Today I reflect on lines from then Presidential Candidate Bobby Kennedy, "Too often do we honor swagger and bluster and the wielders of force... Our lives on this planet are too short. The work to be done is too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in this land of ours. "

Please read his words below... this is not a modern day sound bite but it's message is key in its entirety and you will likely feel bolstered and the ground of possibility once you are done.  

Peace is in every choice, both big and small.   We have many choices to make. May our next choices help bring peace to us all.  

Mr. Bobby Kennedy- (Written in his cadence.)

" We seemingly tolerate a rising level of violence that ignores our common humanity and our claims to civilization alike.  
Too often do we honor swagger and bluster and the wielders of force.  
Too often do we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives in the shattered dreams of other human beings. 

But this much is clear...
violence breads violence.  
Repression breeds retaliation. 

But when you teach a man to hate
or to fear his brother, 
when you teach that he is a lesser man, 
because of his color
or his beliefs, 
or the policies that he pursues, 
when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom, 
or you job
or your home
or your family, 
you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies, 
to be met not with cooperation but with conquest, 
to be subjugated and to be mastered.  

We learn at the last to look at our brother as aliens.  
Alien men with whom we share a city but not a community.  
Men bound to us in common dwelling but not in a common effort. We learn only to share a common fear.  

Only a common desire to retreat from each other.  
Only an impulse to meet disagreement with force. 

Our lives on this planet are too short. The work to be done is too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in this land of ours.  

Of course we cannot banish it with a program or a resolution. 
But we can perhaps remember, if only for a time,
that those who live with us are our brothers...
that they share with us the same short moment of life.
That they seek, as do we, 
nothing but the chance
to live out their lives in purpose and in happiness
winning what satisfaction and fulfillment
that they can.

Surely this bond of common fate,
surely this bond of common goals,
can teach us something.

Surely we can learn, in the least, to look around at those of us, 
our fellowman, 
and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and become,
in our hearts, 
brothers and countrymen
once again."

Red Warrior Camp- Peace Blogging in North Dakota

Red Warrior Camp- Peace Blogging in North Dakota

I head into Red Warrior Camp after driving from Chicago and getting into Ashley, North Dakota at 3am.

The sun rose over this little town with it's history present in every sign and elegantly rusted structure and I am reminded of so many faces and conversations over the past few months.  Every face presents its own history as well, with its own rusty parts, those in need of repair and those worn proudly with pride and grace.

I have now traveled over 7500 miles and sat with hundreds of people. It is the power of our voice mixed with the convictions of our actions that will create the changes needed and a planet that leans towards love. I am feeling it every day. 

The more I breathe and step into that place, I step forward and meet each person with the possibility of a true connection... I see the love even in the dissidence.  Each of us simply searching for a life filled with honor, joy, and some fellowship.

Just yesterday morning I was in Chicago at Humboldt Park speaking with a Latino Man about the shattering news of the 500th homicide in his city. Many I spoke with reflected on what is needed and shared intimately about their lives, about their own losses and hopes. I walk onto the basketball court or approach a group of heavily tattooed men at their picnic table and I can see their trepidation. Within moments we speak as "met" individuals with respect AND our differences. 

Today, I am joining a mass of people united by a wish to create a world of more equality and opportunity by standing for the health of our land, hoping to unify people.

This is a unique group for many reasons.  Native Americans are often looked on by some as the outsider, an ethnic minority, or another "other”-type group. Yet these tribes are the only people who can truly claim this land as anything other than an immigrant, producing a weighty, complex paradox to carry individually and as a people. Wisdom here seems to bubble to the top from living a life of this dichotomy. 

In addition, the gathering at Standing Rock is the first time since the Battle of Little Bighorn that the Elders Tent has been erected and more than 60 tribes have come to meet in unity, putting aside their own differences in order to wage a peaceful protest. 

Today, I look forward to meet all points of view. 

Today, I plant my feet and join a good fight, as these people are protecting all of us and our future life on the planet.  

I am honored to do the work I do.  The more I travel among the many "others" of which we all are, the more I feel the same. 

May your day be full of wonder... and surprise... and peace.

Gone to Look For America...

Gone to Look For America...

With all the pings and dings and tweets and twits, sometimes it's hard to hear our own thoughts, let alone that still small voice of calm inside.  Especially at this moment in time, I needed to hear my own still small voice.  Mine said, “Go meet the world. There is more goodness than hate.  There is another voice beyond the fear.”

I’ve been working on the Our State of Peace Documentary Series since February.  I have sat and spoke with hundreds of people from around the world.  The stories are compelling.  They are sweet and thoughtful, heart wrenching and full of joy.  It is clear, we are all more alike than not, complete with fears, desires and an innate hope for a peaceful, joyful existence. This is the base of our work, to weave this tapestry of possibility. 

We ask: "How do we each create a peaceful existence and aren’t we more likely to come to each other in peace if we are experiencing more peace individually?"

This summer, I was compelled to meet our nation.  I am not naïve.  I am learned.  I am paying attention. I still chose to believe in our goodness.  And here’s the tricky part.  I believe in ALL of our goodness.  How can I be open to everyone but “X”?   That sentence does not work with a caveat?  That’s the challenge.  This does not mean I condone or wish to take part in a specific belief.  I simply seek to find the humanity.

The voices resonate:

Miriam, a Pakistani Muslim born and raised in Oklahoma City who has a great love and belief in her country…

Billy, who is given the respect of being an American when abroad but comes home and is treated only as an African American…

Tiana, a Philadelphian, who is grounded in her love of Jesus and her commitment to service…

Steve, who as a young boy was harassed by a racist cop, witnessed his father handle it with such dignity, that the same cop came to his door, hat in hand and apologized to him.

To tell you true, there is a part of me that is a little concerned I might not find my America. My America is not defined by race, color, or creed.  My America is an ideal and that ideal, at our core, is what makes us uniquely American.  We were built on the concept of striving for this ideal.  Being American must become a verb once again.

I truly believe, now more than ever, every voice of calm can bring the shift towards more unity. Now more than ever, we may just be one voice away from a new world.

What if that voice is yours or mine? 

What if in our fear we hold back that voice?

What if it is that voice, that one comment, that one deed which will shift our trajectory?

Being American is a verb.  Here’s to your next moment, your next deed, your next word...  May it bring us all more peace.

There is More Love Than Hate

There is More Love Than Hate

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There is a breaking open that is happening, as a nation and as a globe. Yes, it can be painful and seemingly impossible to navigate but we must also remember there is more love than hate.

There ALWAYS is more love than hate.

When it gets overwhelming, look for the love.  I keep an image on my desktop from when the Syrian refugee crisis was first beginning to escalate.  It was an image of a group of border patrolmen, in formation and in full riot gear.  They were in blockade mode and not 6 feet away was a small baby crawling, gazing up at the men.

I was struck by the variation in expression of the men on the line.  Many seemed willfully looking away from the child, not willing to allow the humanity to penetrate their armor.  There were some that stood at attention and only allowed their eyes to shift towards the child, but their expression remained fixed as if from a mold.   

Then there was this one soldier, leaning over his large police shield, the mask on his helmet resting on top of his head so he could get a full view. He was smiling, his eyes wide and welcoming to meet the gaze of this baby.  In the midst of the chaos, a human being found and recognized another human being.

It is important to mention the soldier holding the adjacent shield.  He was not looking at the baby.  He was looking at the smiling man, as if to say, “Brother, what are you doing?!”.

In my work, I often refer to a study conducted within the American jail system for the purpose of Restorative Justice practices.  It noted that 70% of the prison population is led by another 20%.  There is of course the remaining 10% that may not be able to be readily influences, for a variety of factors.  However, it only takes 20% to shift the energy and dynamic of the group.

We are at that moment of shift.  This is THE moment in our time, on so many levels and with so many important issues.  And though these issues may seem different or in opposition, though they may come from different segments of a population or countries or from different political perspectives, they all center around the need to acknowledge our innate value as a human being.  We are seeking to recognize our connection, as well as provide for our individual right to live a good, worthy, peaceful life… collectively.

I believe we are one voice a way from a new beginning.  What if more of us recognized ourselves as part of that 20%?  Could we make the shift quicker and with more ease?  Could it be my voice or yours that tips that scale?

I also want to acknowledge the importance of the questioning man next to the man with the welcoming smile.  This questioning is our opening.  When a person opens just enough to question the status quo, to break what seems like an impenetrable formation, literally like this man was doing, or in his mind and heart, that action holds the power to begin again. When we break through our fears and faulty perceptions, we are free to love fully.

When it gets overwhelming, look for the love.  Just look for the love. Then share it.  May we be gentle with each other as we begin again … and again.

Here’s to a greater Peace.

Finding Connection in Chaos

Finding Connection in Chaos

Can we take a moment...can we?  

I have a great love of humanity, always have.  And I know, at the heart of it, we all do.  I was the child in the playground who was always rooting for the underdog.  In fact, Underdog was my favorite cartoon; Helen Keller was my hero; and I rooted for the Patroit's even way back then.  

Technology has given us this incredible gift to stretch our humanity and yes, it can overwhelm.  I know it can be hard to allow each of these attacks to truly land in our psyche.  It is overwhelming.  I'm not asking that we succumb to the fear.  I'm asking that we don't step away from who we are as humans.  At our core, we are love.  That's the only thing that will rise us above.  And the only way to access the love that motivates action is to allow all the emotions in.  We must be able to hold both joy AND pain. The more we feel the impact of each attack, the more motivated we will be to find solution.

These attacks must be seen as an attack on us all, no matter what the physical distance. "We are one" is not a catch phrase.  It's our only hope.

The fact is we are all the underdog at some point and we are now at the point where that could not be more true.  As a people, as a planet, we are the underdog. There is a destroying of the very fiber of what connects us as humans.  The very connective thread is being challenged.  That is our humanity.  The ability to care, to recognize another's pain, to acknowledge the pain we are causing in another.  

So for today let's consider...  when you see a person on the street or in the media, you may not know exactly what they carry with them, but odds are, they are carrying a similar burden to yours or joy or heartbreak.  We are more alike than not, complete with fears, desires ,and an innate hope for a peaceful, joyful existence.

May your next choice bring you peace.  And then, may we each bring our peace to the world.



Deborah Greene is the Founder and CEO of LiveaMoment.com, a company which has created a platform for daily mindfulness that combines the action of cultivating individual peace and connecting globally to foster world peace.  Deborah has a long history of creating award-winning programs in diverse sectors, working with manufacturers, entrepreneurs, nonprofits, educators and media of all kinds. She is a writer and educator and has been schooled in Mindfulness and Child & Adolescent Development, mediation, and is skilled in victim-offender dialogue through her work in the LA Detention Centers.

Can Three Feet of Peace Change The World?

Can Three Feet of Peace Change The World?


After 9/11- I traveled up and down the west coast with a small film crew to talk with high school students and see how they were handling our new world. I was particularly sensitive to not overload them with more discussions about the actual event but rather to provide a forum to talk and see what evolved.

We posed the following premise: If you were given a television network to program and say whatever you want, what would you create? What do you have to say? And so it began. A deep debate about how they as teenagers are portrayed, what we as adults were missing from our assessment of them and what they viewed as our obsession with war. These were kids from all walks of life, ethnic backgrounds, political orientations and socio-economic levels.

One thing rang out loudly, “How can I as an individual possibly save this mess? World peace is unrealistic.”

Theory of Three Feet

Our discussion created the theory. How do we each create a peaceful existence and aren’t we more likely to come to each other in peace if we are experiencing more peace individually? The three feet of peace speaks to our own personal three-foot circumference. We spoke of paradox; the woman who cuts you off in traffic because she is late for yoga, the father who interrupts his own meditation to scream from his room when he hears a glass drop in the kitchen, the parents who restrict their children’s television consumption but are permanently affixed to their IPhone’s.

What if you were calm, and I was calm, and she was calm, just for a moment... What if we do it in the next moment and the next? Ok, well, maybe not this one, but how about the next? If I can create a peaceful world, and she can create a peaceful world, and he can create his peaceful world, maybe we will be less likely to blow each other apart, in all the small daily ways as well as the earthshaking, truly soul shattering, literal ways.

Shakespeare and Meditation in Jails

Years earlier, I had an idea. An idea not yet made popular, I wanted to work with gang members using Shakespeare to talk about their crimes. It was the early 90’s and I had had many bizarre experiences living in New York while studying. Sometimes I found myself afraid on the streets and since fear has often served as a signpost of the next thing I am meant to explore, I dug in. So when I moved to the West Coast I was looking for an opportunity to test my convictions and my belief that these kids held more possibility than their situations were allowing them to express.

The opportunity came over a game of pool in LA, when I met Ish Moran, Head Probation Officer at the maximum-security juvenile facility in the area. He is a striking man. He stands well over six feet tall, a mix of histories and ethnicities, with hands that can rival Wilt Chamberlain’s. All this packaged with a large brimmed cowboy hat, spiritual totems around his neck and large rings whose origins seem to come from all over the world. Much later, I would see him walk across the yard in the jail, with a distinctively measured gate, carrying with him a large stillness, no matter what the situation at hand.

I pitched him my idea as we played. My youthful exuberance and natural tendency to excite bouncing around the table, as he stood thoughtful and still, effortlessly whipping my butt at pool, he agreed to meet with me. Months later, I would be the one standing still, in the frame of the gymnasium door at his facility with the four teachers I had hired, and watch as a line of extremely large young men crossed the yard towards us in formation, hands behind their backs. I thought, “Good god, I hope I know what I’m doing.”

As they approached, I could see the reluctance in their eyes, already suspicious. I instinctively reached out my hand to shake the hand of the first man as he approached. The line came to a halt. I asked him his name. He gave me his last name. I asked for his first name and gave him mine, shaking his hand as he entered. My well trained but green-like-me teachers stepped into line behind me, following my lead. First names exchanged and contact made. I was unaware of how many protocols I had broken and how significant it would be that I had done so. At the end of the first class they lined themselves up again and wanted to repeat our greeting on the way out, shaking each teachers hand. This became our own private protocol.

This also became a space for them to momentarily let down their guard, even slightly must have been a relief to their system. “They take away everything when you get locked up. They take away your clothes. They take away your freedom. They take away your thoughts. They take a way your hair. They take away everything, except your memories. So you just sit in here and start going crazy, ” one man confided. This was indeed a setting where there was no hope for ownership of your three feet of peace, so it had to be created from within, an internal place to land and find comfort. Over time the handshakes became hugs, which periodically were shared among their peer group even between otherwise rival gang members. As they left each class, the ritual continued, and each time I would watch their bodies shift, contort, and re-assimilate in structure and energy to create their façades as they entered the yard which required a tighter hold for survival.

Ish began a class in meditation and spoke of a similar experience. This would be a moment where they were safe to be still, return to an internal space for which their thoughts were their own, the possibilities endless, and they controlled their world. Even for a moment.


One teacher shared with me that he learned more from them than he possibly could have taught. I agreed. I worked in the world of entertainment at that time and I looked forward to my weekends in the jail where communication felt more direct and for better or worse, you always knew where you stood.

The greatest lesson was about the need to express, be heard and to feel respected as a human being. I remember a specifically pointed conversation about the feeling one student had when holding someone at gunpoint. He expressed a feeling of being respected. He spoke of how, for that moment, he had the complete attention of someone who otherwise might never have looked him in the eye. I took a risk and told him if he had held me at gunpoint, he would have indeed had my attention and momentarily held my life in his hand but my attention would not have meant my respect.

I realized how critical our first meeting had been. My immediate desire to look them in the eye, get their name and shake their hand. That was the move of a self-possessed person choosing to meet another as a self-possessed person and honoring the interaction, which allowed a space for respect to grow. We had huge differences but that didn’t create a chasm of assumptions or a stance of permanent retreat.

Three Feet of Peace

One of my favorite images sits at my bedside. It is a hand drawn image of a bird perched on a branch, singing. Below is a cage with an open door. Most of us will not experience the truly confining reality of prison. Most of us have experienced a cage of our own making. The psychic cost of compressing ourselves and limiting our expression into those harnessed but safe dwellings has a global cost as well. When in this state, it is near impossible to grow, to be open to the unknown or unfamiliar, or to challenge our beliefs. For me, peace comes when I feel at home within myself, without the feeling of constriction provoked from the outside or pre-instructed from within. When I do so, I add my three feet of peace to the larger world.

These collective three-foot increments can significantly alter our world in ways we may not fully comprehend. Like seeds dropped on a path. We do not always see the bloom, but it is enough to know it will sprout. This is the next evolution. Change occurs within your next choice. What will you chose? May it bring you Peace.


Deborah Greene is the Founder and CEO of LiveaMoment.com, a company which has created a platform for daily mindfulness that combines the action of cultivating individual peace and connecting globally to foster world peace.  Deborah has a long history of creating award-winning programs in diverse sectors, working with manufacturers, entrepreneurs, nonprofits, educators and media of all kinds.  She is a writer and educator and has been schooled in Mindfulness and Child & Adolescent Development, mediation, and is skilled in victim-offender dialogue through her work in the LA Detention Centers.

Me, Myself, and iPhone

Me, Myself, and iPhone

It all started over dinner. I posed a simple question to the group. Would you be willing to have an App that randomly turned off your phone for 3 minute intervals without your input? Silence… Shock… Down right anger. How could you suggest that? What about an emergency? What if that was the instant that someone tried to highjack your car, what about an earthquake? My daughter could be sick? What if someone died? And so on.

It was such a telling moment that it forced us all to FINALLY just stop… Silence. But this time the silence came with an awareness of just how out of whack we were. Certainly, people had survived for years with only the input from their direct surroundings and the companionship and assistance of those around them. Especially here in the Bay Area, it was hard to admit our obsession. We do love our gadgets.

Believe me, I wasn’t judging. My modern twitch had become a subtle flick of the thumb no one would even notice. As a matter of fact, that little manuever has become an acceptable nuance in our modern day dance of conversation. But energetically, there is an awareness we are all subtly somewhere else. We are a group of highly evolved, highly intellegent, partial people.

One of my favorite lines of poetry is from Rilke:

I want to unfold.

I don’t want to stay folded,

because where I am folded, there I am a lie.

That’s how I feel sometimes. Slightly folded into myself. I am balancing the conversation I am currently in, all while being aware of several conversations I am having in my pocket. So, this endeavor, liveamomentofpeace.com, is not to claim right or wrong. It’s about simple awareness and the possibilities of a slight tweeking, (no I did not say tweeting), of our behavior and what the ramifications of these small changes might be.

We are each born with many gifts. Some need to be cultivated, others curbed. And so do patterns, some cultivated and others curbed.

We will be introducing many opportunities to experiment with disconnecting to connect and varying ways that might work within your lifestyle. And here’s the important piece, we do this all while being able to witness what these moments are doing for people all over the world.

And yes, for those daredevil, thrill seekers…go ahead, leave your phone in the car for one dinner.

Viva the evolution!

The New Place Setting... Fork, Knife, Spoon, Phone

The New Place Setting... Fork, Knife, Spoon, Phone

I write emails in my head. I do. All the time. I think of someone and I construct the conversation in prose. Or texts. So now I am looking to communicate in basic Haiku. Nuance gone, it's laughable that we wonder why we experience so much misunderstanding.

I once had a job in Greenland back in the late 90’s and even then I was amazed at how good the reception was. My ex-husband and I talked almost everyday. And while that was good for our personal communication, I was slightly disappointed by not having the excuse, “Sorry, I couldn’t get back to you. I’m in Greenland.”

Just as there is a need to connect, there is also an almost visceral need to be able to disengage long enough to hear that infamous “still small voice”. There is a basic psychological premise called containment, the ability to have an understanding of where we end and others begin and our ability to recognize how to contain and harness all that we are. The line is now so blurry. At our finger tips, we are not just us, we are a myriad of people, many of whom we really don’t know. We finger out a thought, a response, a knee jerk reaction and believe it is connection.

But maybe not. Perhaps that thought was better used for an internal process, or the moment needed time to marinate, and the knee jerk reaction simple should have been shelved. We see the world in terms of how to send our moments to someone else and go to concerts and watch from behind the recording screen of our iPhones.

I had a great gift a couple of weeks back. I went to see Yoyo Ma at The Greek in Berkeley. He is a childhood favorite. This time it was just him, with his cello, sitting on a solo chair in the footlights. The gift was that the way he was lit made it impossible to record. No matter where you moved to, it was like he was an apparition. No one could get him on video! He was just this shining white light. Metaphor not lost on anyone. He was magical.

So, we all had to just sit and listen on this beautiful starry night. I walked away not only calm but lit myself, having time to fully absorb the music and with no shortage of epiphanies to take home born from the stillness.

Stillness is not always my forte and I know I am missing something. Quality of connection is lost for quantity and ease of connection. And often we use the ease of these devices to avoid what really needs to be said directly, landing in the heart.

Perhaps we can give up our modern day place settings… fork, knife, spoon, phone and take a moment to see who is at the table. Otherwise, you might just miss that shining light that’s impossible to record.

Worth checking out this New York Times Article on approaches to phones at the table:


A 12 year old's wisdom on Peace...

A 12 year old's wisdom on Peace...

A Moment to Realize

War is driven by hate, made by people who don’t understand the beauty in differences, who don’t take the time to realize what they are doing until its over. This does not make them bad people. It just makes them ignorant to the pain of their destruction.

Life is driven by love, made by people who care for others around them, even the people they do not know. The people who donate to others without a second thought, the people who will give extra money to that homeless man on the street, not caring what he does with it, but hoping he does something productive to keep himself alive. For we can not lose any more lives because of not caring, not noticing, not trying and not asking what we could do to help this world and the living beings on it.

-Emma, age 12

Please join us at noon, Sunday, September 21st, for the United Nations International Day of Peace, SF Peace Flash Mob!

Moment of Silence 12pm; Peace Flash Mob 12:01pm

Location will be announced 5 days before. Beautiful and easily accessible.

More info and flash mob dance steps at: www.Liveamomentofpeace.com

(love to my niece for her wisdom.)