| Peace is attainable but we have
to make some sacrifices, says Eric Harrison. And perhaps
now is the perfect time to start.
Peace
comes in many forms from the transient to the eternal,
from the trivial to the sublime. "Peace at last!"
says the mother when the kids are finally in bed. Peace
in politics means the cessation of hostilities, which
would seem like Heaven to the inhabitants of Sudan or
Iraq. Moral peace comes from doing what you feel is
right and being true to yourself. You can also be at
peace if you philosophically accept your fate without
complaint.
Yet peace is often a contaminated product. There is
the spiritual serenity of detachment and indifference:
"Everything passes, so why worry?" Religions
guarantee peace beyond the grave if you behave yourself,
and the opposite if you don't. Gurus offer permanent
peace as a shining, but somehow just-out-of-reach, ideal.
Finally, travel agents sell peace as part of the package
at tropical resorts.
In a perfect world, we would feel mentally at peace
every time we were physically at rest. Peace is utterly
natural, yet to the chronically stressed, it may seem
as unattainable as the moon. One thing is certain however
- we can always be more peaceful than we are. The search
for peace starts with the biological process of relaxation,
and we all relax sometime. Is there some secret formula
that allows us to move on from physical relaxation to
mental stillness?
There are two archetypal images of peace. The first
is that of the seated Buddha with his eyes open. The
second, closely related, is that of the yoga chick,
with her eyes closed, sitting cross-legged on an empty
beach. These two images tell us volumes about how to
be peaceful. If we analyse them, we find that peace
is not free or automatic. It comes at a price, and is
dependent on certain conditions.
The Buddha is depicted as being alone, inactive, mentally
still and alert (that is, with eyes open). We also assume
he is leading a simple, non-materialistic life in nature.
These illustrate four key ingredients of peace - solitude,
stillness, silence and simplicity. The more we can achieve
any of these, even for a minute or two, the more peaceful
we become.
At some deep level we know all of this. We can see
that our lives are commonly too crowded, busy, noisy
and complicated. These are four key ingredients of stress.
Even if we understand this, peace still seems impossible:
"I can't leave my kids, my mortgage, my Internet,
my city lifestyle, and just do nothing!" Important
as peace is, we don't want it at the expense of everything
else. In 1993, I met 150 other Western meditation teachers
at a conference in California. Most of us had spent
years in retreat, or been monks or nuns in the past,
and had known inconceivably beautiful states of mind
as a result. Yet, nearly all of us had finished with
that lifestyle and re-entered the modern world. There
are higher goals than tranquillity alone. A search for
mental clarity at all costs is somewhat immature and
unbalanced.
I left that contemplative life behind in 1985, but
with a burning question: 'Could I maintain those calm,
clear states of mind in the midst of a career, relationships
and the city?' 'Could I balance inner peace with the
quite contrary demands of love and work?'
I found that I could, but what came easily in the wilderness
took ingenuity and effort in the city. In the midst
of a crowded life, we can always be a little more alone,
silent and still, if we value and cultivate those qualities.
We can find islands of peace in the turmoil, and peace
in our minds, even if it seems absent from the world
around us.
SOLITUDE
Peace is about solitude. It is naturally antisocial.
Perfect peace is almost narcissistic in its self absorption.
We find peace when we walk away from others, if only
for a few minutes, and feel ourselves to be alone. People
are crucial to our wellbeing but we find peace on our
own.
Solitude is not about abandoning people. It is about
being mentally alone whenever we are physically alone.
We can be fully alone while walking, going to the toilet,
doing housework, sitting in a bus or falling asleep,
if we know how. More commonly, we hold lengthy conversations
with and about people in our heads all day long, whether
they are present or not. When you go to the toilet,
are you truly alone? Or do your parents, children, friends,
workmates and various TV celebrities all squeeze into
the cubicle with you?
Whenever you don't have to engage with people, you
can be mentally alone. When you walk through a park
on the way to work, you can be as alone as a yogi in
the Himalayas. It all depends on how you direct your
mind. If you are truly in the park and in your body,
you can find peace in every step.
STILLNESS
The seated Buddha is making a statement. He has nothing
to do, nowhere to go and very little to think about.
For this reason, some people find a meditation class
an extremely odd experience. For perhaps the first time
in their lives, they sit still and literally do nothing
for maybe 20 minutes. They even give themselves permission
not to actively think (which is easier said than done).
Peace is about inactivity, about doing nothing and
letting the body and mind return to balance. This is
why peace is so good for our health. Every day we oscillate
between activity and rest, wakefulness and sleep, and
we typically find peace in the rest and repair part
of that cycle. This is why the idea of perfect peace
is a myth: we can't do nothing forever.
Although it is easy to sit down and physically stop,
our minds can still be restless. We typically entertain
ourselves with TV or reading or absentminded rumination,
without our minds ever coming to a halt. We can relax
and even fall asleep this way, but we won't be truly
peaceful.
The mind only becomes calm and still when it focuses
on one thing at the expense of everything else. This
is what meditation trains us to do. Focusing is a subtle
skill, and not what people usually take it to be. It
is not exclusive since we still notice peripheral thoughts.
It is intermittent, since we are bound to lose focus
periodically. Although focusing is an act of will, it
is not strained or brittle, since it grows out of the
comfort of physical relaxation. The paradox is that
even poor focus is so much better than eternally chasing
our thoughts. Focusing automatically relaxes us by simplifying
our mental activity. It illuminates the detail of whatever
we pay attention to, so we come to know it deeply, beyond
words and concepts. In meditation, focusing can take
us into trance and bliss. In everyday life, it makes
us fully conscious and self aware. In any case, the
immediate payoff for good focus is a calm, still, observant
quality of mind. This is vastly different from merely
being relaxed or spacing out.
SILENCE
When the inner chatter weakens or stops, a remarkable
new world appears. You hear the birds. You sense your
body. You know what you truly feel. When the words fade,
so do the past and future and all their gloomy/hopeful
stories. You live within the vivid, unpredictable beauty
of the present moment, if only for moments, here and
there. You feel the uncanny mystery of life itself,
beyond any explanation.
Inner silence leads to a mode of deep thought that
we can call contemplation. Our everyday thought is typically
fast, linear and reliant on words. It scrambles from
one thing to another all day long, and rarely comes
to a conclusion. It can't stop and it can't listen.
Contemplative thought, on the other hand, emerges from
a calm mind and body. It is familiar with silence. There
are spaces between the words in which our feelings and
our imagination can talk to us. The understanding and
insights that arise tend to be visceral and pictorial
rather than verbal.
"In stillness and silence, the soul grows wise",
said Thomas A Kempis. Peace is valuable in itself, but
it is also the basis of direct understanding, or wisdom.
St Benedict called this process 'divine listening'.
Only in silence can you hear the still, small voice
of God, and that is true even if you are an atheist!
A SIMPLE LIFE
In theory, the Buddha led a simple life. He begged
for his daily food and had no thoughts for the future
(In reality, he was a empire builder). We can't do that,
but we should at least see the price we pay for our
complicated lives. Given our individual temperaments,
there is only so much complexity we can handle and still
sleep well at night.
Just as our bodies have to digest the food we eat,
so our minds have to process whatever we take in. We
pay for the junk food and chocolate, and we also pay
for every skerrick of junk information. We can easily
become more peaceful if we reduce the input. Just try
to do without newspapers, TV, radio and unnecessary
conversations for a day or two, and see how much calmer
you feel.
Peace is dependent on solitude, stillness, silence
and simplicity. All of these are internal qualities
and far more attainable than we might assume. As peace
is so quiet and subtle, it is hard to see its value.
In fact, it is crucial for good health, and a calm,
clear, intelligent quality of mind.
Perfect peace may seem impossible, but we can all be
more peaceful than we usually are, even in this minute,
if we feel it is worth cultivating. |