Folding Japanese origami peace cranes is one of my early childhood memories. As as small girl, I watched my mother’s quick and nimble fingers magically fold and crease the single sheet of square paper with a graceful ease that mystified me. In the time that it took me to make one crane, she would have finished several of them, and then she’d laugh with amusement at my little-girl cocktail of envy, frustration, astonishment and admiration. We gave our carefully folded cranes away to friends and neighbors, and to strangers at peace rallies.

Now I am older than my mother was then, and perhaps I’ve made hundreds of peace cranes throughout my life, inspired in part by my mother and in part by the story of Sadako Sasaki—the young girl who folded paper cranes in the hope that her wish to be healed from leukemia would be granted. Sadly, in the aftermath of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima in World War II, Sadako died at the age of 12 but her wish for healing and peace symbolized in the act of folding paper cranes lives on. Every year school children from all over Japan, and people from all around the world, make thousands of cranes and hang them up at the children’s peace monument in Hiroshima.

In this time where the world seems to be teetering on edge and everyone seems to be running on empty, I asked myself what I can do to create more peace—for myself and for others. Folding paper cranes is something simple that I know how to do. And an ancient Japanese legend says that if you make one thousand cranes your wish will come true… so I decided to make one thousand cranes for peace. Starting just last month, I have only made 23 cranes so far and have another 977 cranes to go, but I am not concerned about how long it will take. I am folding them one by one and giving them away as I fold them, one by one. Each fold and crease, each crane, and each exchange—is one small moment of peace-making and one small moment of peace itself. The wish becomes reality already—in the folding, in the giving, in the choosing to continue one fold after another fold, one crane after another crane, one day after another… night. Journey and horizon become one prayer, one act of love, one choice for peace, one way of being, one path.

And when I have folded the 1,000th crane maybe I will start on another thousand or on some other peace project… but it doesn’t really matter because in the choosing now, in the folding and creasing and loving now, peace is already my world.