Can I let you in on a little secret? Peace is free. Freedom isn't free. Happiness usually costs money. Our ever increasing desire for entertainment is getting more expensive every year. The world in general has a way of wearing us down and robbing our joy. But peace is still out there, waiting patiently for us to partake. It only requires us to disconnect from the world for a bit and plug into its creator.

I glance at my surroundings as I sit at my desk. A calendar lies directly below the computer screen, reminding me of future obligations and that time's wasting. A stack of bills, paid and unpaid, sit on the table behind me. A graph paper tablet with my sketching of a custom stair railing lies next to my keyboard, urging me to get busy on that job. Outside the window waits a lawn needing attention and a vehicle with mechanical issues.

Then my gaze drifts upward to some large prints on the walls. Above the computer screen hangs a photo that I took on a frosty morning in Grant County. A mule deer stands staring at me as I look down the frost-covered road that winds through the mountainous, grassy dunes beyond. Beside this picture is a print of Big Alkali Lake displaying its mirrored beauty on a late-April evening. There's the picture on the west wall of me showing off a fat Sandhills bass that my son, Mitch, took on one of our cherished spring camping trips. Over on the east wall hangs the dead tree photo that Mitch took that now adorns the cover on my book. Looking at these prints, I can refocus on the bigger picture of life.

Disconnecting with the world is the key that unlocks the Sandhills' peace. Turn the cell phone off. Turn the radio off. Get out of your car and put some walking miles between you and it. Find an inspirational spot up high so that you can see in every direction as far as your eyes will detect. Then sit down and listen. At first you will hear only the wind flowing through the grass. Then you notice the meadowlark's whistle coming from a yucca stalk somewhere down below. A red-tailed hawk lets out a high-pitched screech as it circles overhead. Soon your eyes and ears adjust to the environment, sending peaceful signals to your brain. Now it only takes time for your brain to adjust. Mine doesn't take long, but some folks might take a day of two to come around.

Disconnecting with the world means that you are reconnecting to something else. In my case, God now gets my undistracted attention. Lines from long forgotten church hymns surface from deep down in my brain. Bible verses pop out of nowhere. Buried blessings come to mind. Soon I'm having a casual conversation with the Creator of the Universe. This, my friends, is true peace.