{"id":3303,"date":"2026-01-21T03:40:33","date_gmt":"2026-01-21T03:40:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/gaillardiapress.com\/blog\/?p=3303"},"modified":"2026-01-21T18:46:49","modified_gmt":"2026-01-21T18:46:49","slug":"lighting-the-way-on-paths-of-peace","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gaillardiapress.com\/blog\/?p=3303","title":{"rendered":"Lighting the Way on Paths of Peace"},"content":{"rendered":"

By RAHN ADAMS<\/strong><\/p>\n

MORGANTON, N.C. (Jan. 21, 2026) \u2013 When was the last time you drove anywhere unfamiliar without using GPS? Really? It was that <\/em>long ago? Jeepers.<\/p>\n

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HEADING OUT Friday morning, we followed a Streetview camera car for at least 10 miles on Interstate 40 — not this car but one like it. (Google photo, 11\/2025)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Despite the frigid temperatures Friday morning, Timberley and I hopped into Pearl, our little white car, and drove somewhere we\u2019d never been \u2013 85 miles and 90 minutes away \u2013 and we didn’t get lost a single time. That\u2019s a miracle when I\u2019m behind the wheel, even with GPS.<\/p>\n

Two-and-a-half hours later, we returned home by a different route, again on unfamiliar country roads through Cabarrus, Rowan and Iredell counties without making any wrong turns. And this time we weren\u2019t in a hurry, so we were able to enjoy our ride through all that fallow but beautiful farmland.<\/p>\n

It was a win-win situation. I trusted the disembodied voice giving us directions, and I didn\u2019t even have to think. I hadn\u2019t had to do any serious pre-trip planning by consulting road maps, and I didn\u2019t have to bother Timberley to fumble with her phone and plot our turns through Piedmont farm country.<\/p>\n

More importantly, we didn\u2019t have to take the wider but more congested interstate highways that most other motorists chose to travel between, say, Troutman and Kannapolis that day. We took the roads that at least appeared to be less traveled. So, you see where I\u2019m headed here, right?<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Of course, once we got back to Interstate 77 south of Statesville Friday afternoon, I turned off Pearl\u2019s navigation app. I was confident that I could find my way home from there, as I\u2019ve driven I-77 and I-40 numerous times over my 50 years of licensed driving. Holy cow. A half century on the road.<\/p>\n

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MY GREMLIN X with Levi’s interior was identical to this one shown in an AMC print ad from 1974.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Yes, I’ve traveled many miles since the summer of 1976 when I embarked on this long strange trip beside the license examiner in my yellow ’74 Gremlin. His name was Fred \u2013 the car, I mean. For years, he was my trusted companion until he started hitting the sauce, a quart of Quaker State every other day. He just had to have it. Still, Fred the oil-guzzling Gremlin taught me more than just the rules of the road. He taught me to be humble.<\/p>\n

One way we learn is through repetition, by doing something repeatedly until we can do it without thinking, like driving a car or riding a bicycle or putting one foot in front of the other to run or just to walk. We learn by covering the same ground and by following the same paths time and again.<\/p>\n

However, in the absence of repeated practice, we must find something or someone we can trust to guide us on the roads we choose. I relied on technology to guide us Friday \u2013 more precisely, on a GPS-enabled smartphone linked to our little car\u2019s computer and its in-dash video screen.<\/p>\n

At the same time, many of us look for someone with experience to lead us, a person who seems both trustworthy and true. But if we\u2019re not careful \u2013 or mindful<\/em>, to put it another way \u2013 we might find ourselves following leaders for the wrong reasons, whatever those faulty motivations might be.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m a good enough writer to know that I\u2019ve probably lost you by now. What in heaven\u2019s name is he talking about?<\/em> you might be asking yourself. Or if you\u2019re like the tuxedo cat or little kid in those social media videos, it\u2019s What the hell?<\/em><\/a> Yes, I\u2019m looking for a roundabout way to say something.<\/p>\n

On Friday, Timberley and I went to Kannapolis to see a group of Buddhist monks on their Walk for Peace<\/em> from Fort Worth, Texas, to Washington, D.C<\/a>. We had been following their progress across the South and their pilgrimage’s perils for several weeks, and we wanted to support their mission.<\/p>\n

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THE MONKS WALKED past us and several thousand onlookers lining the S-shaped road through the hillside cemetery.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I’ll speak now only for myself, not for Timberley. While the experience of waiting two hours in frigid temperatures to see the venerable monks process up Mount Olivet Church Road through huge Carolina Memorial Park cemetery to their midday break intrigued me, it wasn\u2019t life-changing. Not yet, anyway.<\/p>\n

As a former journalist, I\u2019m used to seeing and interacting with notable people from different walks of life, and that\u2019s what these honorable men have literally become \u2013 walking celebrities \u2013 for as much as they try to avoid that status. Or maybe social media has simply made their images too familiar to me.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve read random Facebook posts that compare the monks’ 120-day, 2,300-mile Walk for Peace<\/em> to fictional idiot Forrest Gump\u2019s mindless cross-country runs<\/a> \u2013 you know, until he is too tired to run any longer and he just wants to go home. But it\u2019s not the same thing. These mindful pilgrims know where they\u2019re going and why. Many of us can’t say the same thing about ourselves.<\/p>\n

As far as that movie goes, the real issue is why all those people follow<\/em> Forrest Gump back and forth across America, from the slopes of mile-high Grandfather Mountain to the depths of Death Valley. After all, he freely admits he\u2019s running \u201cfor no particular reason.\u201d But then he adds, \u201cSomebody later told me it gave people hope.\u201d Indeed.<\/p>\n

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ENLARGEMENTS show at the bottom right where I first spotted the monks; on the left, how far they had walked by the time I could raise my phone and snap this one quick photo.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

And that\u2019s what I saw Friday outside Mount Olivet Church \u2013 several thousand people in need of hope during these dark days, as well as folks from various walks of life in search of someone to guide us all toward if not world peace, then simple peace of mind. The monks talk the talk through their leader, and they also walk the walk.<\/p>\n

To be honest, I did experience an instant, just an instant of \u2026 well \u2026 let\u2019s call it rapture <\/em>on Friday. A moment of something like ecstasy<\/em>. I saw a single flash of brilliant color \u2013 maybe from a shot of adrenaline in my bloodstream \u2013 when I caught my first glimpse of the monks\u2019 saffron robes down the brown hill, across the sacred expanse, through the leafless trees and past the parked cars between them and me.<\/p>\n

It could have been a burst of light from someone’s camera. Or maybe, just maybe that\u2019s how hope <\/em>or peace <\/em>or loving-kindness <\/em>\u2013 or something more mysterious \u2013 feels inside, in a cemetery on a hillside, on the coldest day of the winter, with or without a smartphone to guide me. Amen? Or as the venerable monks would say, sadhu<\/em>?<\/p>\n

Today is going to be my peaceful day.<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

[Author’s note: The WRAL-TV story (linked above) about the <\/em>Walk for Peace features an interview with our new friend as of Friday, Dr. Lee McCorkle, who stood near us and recorded on video the monk’s procession past us. Our thanks also to Lee, a Charlotte-based singer-songwriter, for introducing us to his music as Leisure McCorkle<\/a>. Look him up.<\/em>]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

By RAHN ADAMS MORGANTON, N.C. (Jan. 21, 2026) \u2013 When was the last time you drove anywhere unfamiliar without using GPS? Really? It was that long ago? Jeepers. Despite the frigid temperatures Friday morning, Timberley and I hopped into Pearl, our little white car, and drove somewhere we\u2019d never been \u2013 85 miles and 90 … Continue reading Lighting the Way on Paths of Peace<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3303","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gaillardiapress.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3303","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gaillardiapress.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gaillardiapress.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gaillardiapress.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gaillardiapress.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3303"}],"version-history":[{"count":45,"href":"https:\/\/gaillardiapress.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3303\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3352,"href":"https:\/\/gaillardiapress.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3303\/revisions\/3352"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gaillardiapress.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3303"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gaillardiapress.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3303"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gaillardiapress.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3303"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}