As the Walk for Peace Monks end their journey in Washington, DC, I want to honor and celebrate their purpose and accomplishment by sharing my own experience with them.
I had been following their journey for weeks, inspired after they appeared on my social media feed near the beginning of their walk. I love the simplicity of what they are doing—and the unmistakable power behind such a simple action.
I felt a strong desire to be in their presence along the route and decided that Martin Luther King Jr. Day weekend would be the perfect time. It felt meaningful to remember a great leader for change through peaceful demonstration while supporting another group spreading peace through their own quiet demonstration.
Hailey and I left Saturday afternoon and drove down to North Carolina. Sunday morning, we arrived in Greensboro, where the monks planned their lunch stop. Hundreds of people had already gathered, and more lined the streets leading into town. We walked toward the edge of town and waited with others to witness their arrival.
Soon, we spotted the police escort cars in the distance. And then they appeared—just like I had seen so many times on my social media feed. Walking in their orange robes. Silent. Humble.
Everyone grew quiet as they passed.
I felt inspired simply watching them walk by and being in their presence. One of the monks handed me a white carnation. And as simply as they had come, they were past us. Then the crowd began to follow behind them. We joined the slow parade toward the lunch location, surrounded by hundreds of people wanting to show support and raise awareness for their mission of peace—within ourselves, our homes, our communities, our country, and the world.
We gathered near an outdoor pavilion where an area had been set up for the monks to speak, and then we waited.
It was raining and cold. Hundreds of people tried to get closer to the front. The monks rested inside an RV, eating their one daily meal and completing their practices—a well-deserved time of renewal. And we waited.
While we stood there for hours, I noticed how fragile inner peace can feel. Some people pushed forward to get under the pavilion and out of the rain. Some couldn’t physically stand that long and fainted or left their spots, which were quickly filled. Umbrellas protected some people but dripped water onto others. And then there were quiet acts of kindness—a person passing out hand warmers, a woman giving her hat to someone sitting in a chair with nothing to cover her head.
It was a beautiful display of contrasts.
After two hours, we were cold, wet, hungry, and exhausted. Then the lead monk stepped up to speak.
He gently asked that any children, elderly people, or those with disabilities move under the pavilion to be sheltered from the rain. He spoke softly about inner peace—about how we can remain peaceful even when we’re cold, tired, hungry, or uncomfortable. These, he said, are simply sensations. We can notice them without letting them disturb our peace.
He talked about honoring those who came before us and about maintaining peace within ourselves so we can share it with others.
The monks then began passing out bracelets. Naturally, the crowd pressed forward, a sense of urgency rising even though the monks remained calm and slow. The lead monk asked people not to request individual photos because they were about to continue walking. Still, many asked.
They don’t want to be celebrities. They simply want to walk and quietly do what they can.
I am deeply inspired by their sacrifice, devotion, and steady focus on peace for the world. It feels like witnessing something historic—and also deeply personal. A reminder that each of us can show up in peaceful ways in every aspect of our lives.
