before I knew What Peace Was, I lived it

Before I Knew What Peace Was, I Lived It

They say some of the best parts of life don’t announce themselves while you’re in them.
They just pass through quietly… and later become the moments you wish you could return to.

One of mine lives deep in the woods, somewhere around the age of ten.

I was in Girl Scouts, spending two weeks away from everything familiar. No noise, no rush, no expectations—just trees stretching high, the sound of water nearby, and a group of girls learning life without even knowing it. Our tents weren’t really tents… they were comfort dressed up as adventure. Real beds, shared space, laughter that didn’t have to be filtered.

During the day, we made candles by the beach—hands busy, hearts light. There was something about it… the way fire and water met in the same moment, the way we created something with our own hands. It felt simple. It felt full.

And at night, we sang.

One song in particular—“On Top of Old Smoky”—would rise into the air, carried by voices that didn’t yet know life’s weight. Some of us sang loud, some soft, some off-key… but none of that mattered. What mattered was that we were together.

We sang about losing love before we ever understood what loss really meant.
Back then, heartbreak was just a story in a song.
But the feeling—the connection, the belonging, the safety of being surrounded without having to explain yourself—that part was real.

I didn’t know it then, but I was living in peace.

Not the kind we chase as adults.
Not the kind we try to create after life has stretched us and shaped us.
But the pure, unfiltered version—the kind that exists when you are fully present and fully held in a moment.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to understand that song differently.
I’ve come to understand loss, longing, and the weight behind words I once sang so freely.

But I’ve also come to understand something else—

I’ve been searching for that feeling ever since.

Not the sadness in the song…
but the simplicity of that time.
The togetherness.
The quiet joy of just being.

Because before I knew what peace was…
I lived it.