The path of peace is relegated to monks whose distance and isolation is too far removed from the realities of life on this planet to be a viable option. Their peace is not everyone’s peace. I am seeing that peace is a far more staccato concept than we generally care to accept. There is no everlasting. World peace seems more quaint by the day. We grow more numerous and less restrained as a species. Cadavers pile up as we adamantly protect our marked territories or relegate the weak members to the lowest levels of the pack. To starve, to ultimately die. There is no great predator to devour us save for us.
It is left to the individual to chart a course in this life and to accept the moments of peace that come with it. Peace must be forced into being but not clung to. Welcomed and adored, yet not imprisoned. Allowed to come and go as we grapple with the forces at work for us and against. It does not last unless we accept it.
In this life things can become more complicated than they need to be. There is no escape, even for the careless and indifferent. Freedom in this moment can be cruel bondage in the next. For this reason, it is important to contrast the silences with the cacophony and learn to discern the difference. It is the only path I see toward finding significant peace. And, perhaps, love.