The festive season is upon us. At this time of year, more than any other, we yearn for peace. Our singers sing songs of peace. Our greetings invite peace. Yet, the peace we so desperately yearn for often elude us. Newspapers are filled with stories of anger and fear. Televisions broadcast pictures of war, despair, and destruction. What it is that prevents us from experiencing peace in our world, our cities, our homes, and our hearts? Why is it that the peace we so desperately desire is so rarely experienced?

Maybe a better question is, "Who is responsible for peace?" "Who is responsible for creating a peaceful world?" My own journey to experience peace revealed how little I knew about creating peace. For much of my life I held the assumption that peace would come from others. That peace would occur when world leaders chose peace rather than war. As a consequence my responsibility for creating peace was little more than that of an impatient bystander or a vocal cheerleader. Years of living without peace, however, made painfully clear that this path to peace was an illusion; that my strategy of how to experience peace was flawed.

I now know if I am to experience peace, then it will come from me. That it will come from my efforts, rather than the efforts of others. I am responsible for the peace I cherish. If peace is to occur, I must create this peace with in me first. It is impossible to create peace in the world if I do not come from a place of peace. Peace begins with me. Gandhi said it clearest - Be the change you want the world to be. Peace, joy, and happiness are my responsibility.

But what does this mean? How is the experience of peace my responsibility? The fact is that my emotional state is a direct consequence of my mental state. That happiness or sadness, trust or fear, hope or despair is created in my mind by the kind of story I tell myself, or by the stories I allow to be told to me. My experience of life is determined by the meaning I assign to life. If I want to experience peace, then it is my responsibility to take charge of the meanings that I assign; take charge of the stories I tell myself and allow to be told to me.

I now realize I took little responsibility for the stories I told myself. I often accepted, without reservation or reflection, the stories imparted by others. The result was I was never in charge of my mental and emotional body. What I thought and felt was in the hands of others. No wonder I  rarely experienced peace! I am now clear why peace eluded me. It is because I acted as though I was not responsible for creating peace. I acted as if I was powerless.

If I want to experience peace, I need to take responsibility for creating peace. I need to claim my power as a storyteller. I need to monitor the stories I tell myself. I need to be vigilant in telling stories of compassion and understanding, of respect and dignity, and of the right of all species to live in harmony, rather than stories of fear and scarcity, of us against them, or of the superiority of one race, one nation, or one species over another.

 A native tale beautifully captures the secret of peaceful living. In the story an elder is walking with his grandson. After a period the grandfather interrupts the silence and declares, "Grandson, there are two wolves fighting in my heart. One wolf is angry and vindictive and wants to hurt others. The other wolf is kind, compassionate, and loving."  The grandson, hearing the words of his grandfather is filled with fear and anxiety. "Which wolf will win the battle of your heart?" asks the grandson. The wise elder replies, "My heart will be won by the wolf that wins the battle of every man's heart. It will be the wolf that I feed."