Right now, a group of 19 Buddhist monks are walking through Charlotte on their journey from Texas to Washington, D.C. as part of their Walk for Peace. Their presence is quiet, humble, and profoundly moving. With each step, they are embodying peace—not as an abstract concept, but as a lived, physical practice. Simply by walking, they are reminding all that peace begins in how we move through the world.
Peace walks have a long and meaningful history. In the 1990s, monks and interfaith activists undertook a pilgrimage that began at Auschwitz and ended in Nagasaki, Japan—two places forever marked by immense human suffering. That walk, like today’s journey, carried a shared intention: to bear witness, to heal, and to move forward with compassion and awareness.
These walks are deeply aligned with the teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh, who devoted his life to cultivating mindfulness and peace. Exiled from Vietnam in the 1960s for protesting the war, he went on to inspire millions around the world. One of his most accessible teachings was walking meditation—the idea that walking itself can be a spiritual practice. Each step becomes an opportunity to return to the present moment, to calm the nervous system, and to reconnect with the body and breath.
Walking meditation is especially powerful for those who find seated meditation difficult. Rather than forcing stillness, it allows mindfulness to arise through movement: one step in front of the other, one foot touching the ground at a time. The breath slows naturally. The mind softens. The body feels supported rather than constrained. Over time, this kind of mindful movement can reduce stress, improve emotional regulation, and create a greater sense of grounding and peace.
I am deeply moved by the Walk for Peace and by the quiet discipline it takes to carry intention into every step. It invites all of us to reflect on how consciously we move through our own lives. Are we aware of our surroundings as we walk? Does our presence inspire calm, or does it contribute to chaos? Do we allow ourselves the time to notice our breath? These monks remind us that mindfulness is not confined to a cushion or a mat—it lives in how we walk, how we occupy space, and how we show up for one another, one step at a time.