Assisi and the Prayer of St. Francis

What is it about a place that makes you want to wrap your arms around it, gather it up, fold it with very tight creases, pack it in your suitcase and take it with you forever? Something touches your heart, pricks a memory from another time, calls to you in some way.

You’ve had it happen to you. I know you have. It doesn’t matter where or when or even what. What was it for you? Are you standing on a rocky cliff looking over a vast ocean – lying in fine sand on a beach with the sun caressing your skin and warming your core – hiking in pure mountain air, hearing the trees whisper their song – in a crystal cave deep beneath the earth – on a quaint street in a tiny village – or someplace entirely different?

When I hear “Assisi” I feel like Pavlov’s dog. (I’m learning to control the drool.) When I see a picture of Assisi my heart opens the dam flooding my brain with loving memories and something deeper than my mind can reach, buried in the depths of my being.

It’s the embodiment of Love; its connection; its friends; its beauty, song, laughter, a freshness older than the mountains, its Oneness.

Assisi is synonymous with St. Francis. I think of one and the other pops up with it, tied together, bound forever, a blend of man and earth, earth and sky, trees and nature. And don’t forget the animals and birds. St. Francis called them our sisters and our brothers. He knew of our inner connection to All That Is.

So, when a fellow pilgrim sent me this video of the prayer of St. Francis set to music, sung with an enchanted voice against the backdrop of Assisi, I was right back there again, standing on the rooftops, walking the ancient streets, breathing the Italian air.

Once that place is touched I allow it to expand so I can travel deeper. Why did I go in the first place? Now that I’m back, what am I doing with it?

I arrived in Assisi at the end of a very long walk in all kinds of weather through the rugged mountains. We called it a Walk for Peace, to raise the consciousness. The consciousness that was raised was my own. I’m still the same person, mind you, and at the same time totally different.

I walked for peace. At first I didn’t know the peace I was walking for was for me.

Peace to me is being accepted. Therefore, I accept you as you are and I accept me just as I am. We don’t need to be fixed because we’re not broken.

Peace to me is being calm inside, letting whatever is happening to happen. Be assured that the outside of me is just as animated as it always was. The point is that there doesn’t seem to be any real reason to get upset over “stuff”. Change happens. We get upset when we try to keep life the same when life is changing.

Peace is being kind. There really is no excuse for not being kind. No one can make you mad or upset or happy or sad. If you think someone has that power over you, why are you letting them in your head? You may not choose the action but you certainly have control over your reaction to the action. If not, why not? Get a grip. Who is living your life if not you? Be kind to yourself.

Peace is freedom. Every time I decide to be peaceful I also become more free. The freer I become the more freedom I give. And you get back what you give.

St. Francis knew what he was talking about. What he wanted for himself is what he gave to others. How he wanted to be treated is how he treated others. Listen to the song again. Take from it what you can.

This video gift was given to me and now I give it to you.



Pace e Bene.