What do you do to relax, to find "A Certain Peace?"

Today, this Sunday morning, the daddy is feeling good. He walked a few blocks around his neighborhood and lingered in his backyard, listening for the wind and the birds. Now, he's sitting in his kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee from his "Mickey's Diner" cup (named after a famous cafe in St. Paul, Minnesota. The cafe is actually a train car, small and intimate. Sometimes, the daddy goes there and talks to the customers, many of whom are homeless, including veterans of Vietnam and Iraqi war). And he's sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of java, listening to Mahalia Jackson sing "Precious Lord" and "We shall overcome" and blogging.

Feeling restful and calm, the daddy thought he'd find a poem about a peaceful state and a poem about Mahalia Jackson. In "A Certain Peace," Nikki Giovanni (photo on the right) speaks about the importance of taking some time to be alone. In "The Day They Eulogized Mahalia," Audre Lorde (photo on the left) puts Mahalia Jackson's death within the context of black life in Chicago.

A Certain Peace
by Nikki Giovanni

it was very pleasant
not having you around
this afternoon
not that i don't love you
and want you and need you
and love loving and wanting and needing you

but there was a certain peace
when you walked out the door
and i knew you would do something
you wanted to do
and i could run
a tub full of water
and not worry about answering the phone
for your call
and soak in bubbles
and not worry whether you would want something
special for dinner
and rub lotion all over me
for as long as i wanted
and not worry if you had a good idea
or wanted to use the bathroom

and there was a certain excitement
when after midnight you came home
and we had coffee
and i had a day of mine
that made me as happy
as yours did you

The Day They Eulogized Mahalia
by Audre Lorde

The day they eulogized Mahalia
the echoes of her big voice were stilled
and the mourners found her
singing out from their sisters mouths
from their mothers toughness
from the funky dust in the corners
of Sunday church pews
sweet and dry and simple
and that hated Sunday morning fussed over feeling
the songs
singing out from their mothers toughness
would never threaten the lord's retribution
any more.

Now she was safe
acceptable
that big Mahalia
Chicago turned all out
to show her that they cared
but her eyes were closed
And although Mahalia loved our music
nobody sang her favorite song
and while we talked about
what a hard life she had known
and wasn't it too bad Sister Mahalia
didn't have it easier
earlier
Six Black children
burned to death in a day care center
on the South Side
kept in a condemned house
for lack of funds
firemen found their bodies

Question: What do you do to relax, to achieve "A Cetain Peace?"