A Path to Peace

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Recovering peace, or achieving it as the case may be, can be simple or it can be almost insurmountably difficult. At the moment I’m entertaining the opinion that the difference between the two is a personal one. I say ‘at the moment’ because I reserve the right to change my opinion, which is part of my formula for reaching a state of internal peace. It also places me at variance with almost everyone except politicians, and in those cases, who knows what they really think, if in fact after years of waffling practice they are even capable of forming honest opinions of their own.

But as usual, I digress. The subject at hand is finding the path to peace, which admittedly has to be a personal one. That’s why my title begins with “A” instead of “The.”

The personal differences in each of us seem to dictate whether we can find peace if we want to, how difficult it will be to get there or even if it suits us to find it. I’ve known people who were abused as children, and some of those were abusers themselves. I’ve known people who were or are enablers or perpetrators of all sorts of destructive or self-destructive behaviors. As a former smoker of many years I can’t honestly say I’ve never been among those. Smoking is sometimes, but I’m sure not always, a form of death-wish. But the very first task at hand might be to examine one’s motivations for whatever one does that might qualify as abusive or destructive. Obviously the next step would be to find ways to mitigate the behaviors that offend one’s health or peace of mind. I’m not talking about anyone else’s health or peace of mind, but yours alone and specifically. For my part, I’ve found replacements for the habits I once believed were a necessary part of my existence. Supplements. Exercise. The occasional snack, underscore occasional, these have replaced tobacco for me. But here’s the key; I’ve done it because it suited me to do it, not because anyone was haranguing or forcing me to do it. If I decide to smoke, I will. I have chosen not to. It was my choice.

That’s what’s important.

What I believe I am expressing is the critical importance of suiting oneself, in most things. It probably won’t be possible to do better than most. There are roughly seven billion other people here too, there are also power structures and governments, not necessarily the same but all corrupt. We age. The prime of life comes and just as surely, leaves us. Being at peace with it certainly does not mean acceptance of all that comes on its own. And that’s why I chose to quit smoking, you see. It gave me an edge in the battle that was probably crucial.

Being at peace does not mean settling oneself with all that’s less than ideal. The effort to be prepared for anything that may come has to be balanced with some common sense. I do not plan to arm myself or to build an impregnable bomb shelter. A decent emergency food supply, however, makes sense to me. A generator seems like a good idea, and so on. And if I see an opportunity to right something that’s wrong, I will act swiftly to do so. I am not a man to be feared, but respected. If there’s anyone that doesn’t suit, that’s too bad.

I knew I was on the right track when on a nice Sunday afternoon I visited the local grocery store. I just needed a few things, I didn’t need a shopping cart. I was dressed as usual in comfortable jeans and a long sleeved shirt, work boots on my feet. As usual my hair was too long and no doubt, tousled. I’ve been told that my walk resembles the rolling gait of a pirate, and that’s probably true. My hands were in my pockets and I was smiling slightly while going about my business. If I was the sensitive type, the glare from an old woman that slammed into me as I turned a corner and into another aisle might have done some serious damage. She was dressed in her Sunday best, was probably just out of church, and her gray, perfectly-coiffed hair was heaped above heavy jowls that were intensely expressive of her infinite disapproval of me. Slightly behind her and to her left like an obedient puppy slouched her gaunt-looking husband, who was also well-dressed but decidedly not happy.

I couldn’t help it. It immediately struck me funny, and I laughed out loud. I’m pretty sure that if I’d been within reach she’d have taken a swing at me. I neither know nor care what she thought of me or exactly why she glared, but obviously I was too unkempt and too uncontrolled and probably, too happy to suit her. The woman looked like the mother of my ex-wife and was behaving just the same, although I’d never seen this person before at all. And as I said, at that moment, I knew I was on the right track.

It seems to me, bringing things into focus for oneself is the most important single thing to be done toward finding peace. At the end of the day, what you can handle is how it will be. It may be a little less or possibly even a little more than you want to handle, and then what you want comes into play, and that’s very important. Wherever you land on the board, it must be someplace where you can be satisfied. If you’re not single like I am, or wish not to be, consider this statement, which I believe with all my heart to be true: You cannot really be right for anyone at all if you aren’t right for yourself, whatever your circumstances.

When you are, you will be at peace.


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