They Walk
The seed of peace is in our yearning.
The monks walked through North Carolina this month.
They were on a Walk for Peace, traveling 2,300 miles on highways and back roads from Fort Worth, Texas to Washington, D.C.
They’re part of a long tradition of meditative walking in Asia. For centuries, monastics have walked in the footsteps of the historical Buddha in his travels through India.
In 1990s Cambodia, a Theravadan monk began to lead walks through his ravaged country to encourage healing after the civil war. 1 The Dhammayietra, or “pilgrimage,” continues to this day as an annual peace walk in early May. 2
I followed the monks online as they approached. I was mesmerized by their regular, swift stride, as relentless and simple as a metronome. They practiced their meditation in this way: step by step, breath by breath.
Their discipline was tight. Every day, they walked, sometimes into the night, to get to the next stopping place. They walked through ice storms, snow, bitter cold, rain. As they walked, the crowds grew.
There was a deep desire from strangers along the road to encounter these strange strangers walking through their towns. A woman leaned over her grandmother in a wheelchair. “Granny, have you ever seen a monk before?”
“Why no, I don’t believe I have.”
The monks accepted bouquets and gave them away. They strewed petals as they went, making footsteps of flowers.
We went to see them on a rural section of Route 64. A hundred cars were parked along the highway. People stood by the side of the road so they would be ready to greet them when they passed. A crowd gathered to hear them speak in front of a Forest Service office. Their message was plain: “Breathe.” “Don’t cling.” “Be mindful of your feelings.” “Be kind to yourselves and others.”
The monks offered no political opinions. There were no debates about pacifism, or self-defense, or gun rights. What they did offer was deeper, beyond words, but not beyond feeling. They remained unknowable, a blank canvas for our image of peace.
They inspired us to step back from tearing at each other’s throats. Those who were sick sought their blessing. Gruff bearded men wept.
It’s not a criticism to say that we were just seeing what we wanted to see. What we saw was our deep desire for relief, whatever its shape.
The seed of peace is in our yearning.
https://www.patheos.com/blogs/feettofaith/2026/01/monks-walk-for-peace-while-countrys-unity-in-pieces/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dhammayietra
This captures something real about how collective longing works. The idea that these monks became a "blank canvas for our image of peace" goes deeper than just projection, it points to how rituals and symbols can actualize what we're already carryng inside. Watched something similar happpen at a vigil once where everyone sort of synced up emotionally without saying much.
I deeply appreciate your use of the word relief.