Being a piece of peace
I am thinking about peace …as always at my favourite place with a large cup of coffee. Oh god me and my thoughts. Suddenly I remembered a funny story (nani ni nindar time ni varta).
Brahma, the creator (in Hinduism) gave everything to his children except peace and bliss. He thought that if he gave those things to them, they would never return to him.
He asked other gods: ‘Where should I hide peace and bliss?’
One suggested: ‘Put them under the ocean’, Brahma replied: ‘My children will find them with the help of a submarine.’
Another suggested: ‘Keep peace and bliss in outer space’, Brahma said: ‘My children will use a space shuttle to find them.’
Still, another suggested: ‘Bury them underground’, Brahma said: ‘They will use dynamite to get them.’
Finally, Brahma decided to hide peace and bliss in the hearts of his children only. As we know, God dwells in the heart, but it is not easy to realize that Truth.
Peace seems scary when you have lived in your feelings for a long time. I understood the extremes, but this expansive quietness was a stranger who’s a friend I didn’t really know.
I used to pray for peace, get it, and then fight it. It felt unsafe not to worry or think. My mind went into overdrive (maybe because it’s free!). I looked at old pictures, listened to specific songs, watched movies, and went deep into daydreaming. And it was weird because I had become excellent friends with silence, yet not so much peace. Meaning, I liked silence outwardly but wrestled it inwardly (Weird, right?).
What I realized is that I always confused peace with other feelings. For a long time, I thought it was euphoric. That rush you get when something goes right when life, in general, is working. That “I can conquer the world (with one hand, as long as you are holding the other — Megan Smith)” attitude. Even when I would verbalize it as happiness, joy, or even release, I equated it with peace internally.
Then I thought peace was numbness. You’re not sad, but you’re not happy either. You’re floating between the two worlds but unable to feel something completely. Even if you did access any emotion, they’d be numb to them. I equate it with a muffled voice. You can hear it, sure, but it’s unreal; you can’t tell what they are saying. You don’t connect with it. Peace, to my understanding, was simply a lack of feelings. Seeking peace by control is like a mirage, where you think you see water but it is not just like that.
But real peace is even-keeled … it is present. It doesn’t require any answers, and it can live with the questions, which is scary if you’re an over thinker. When your brain chatter breaks, the silence inside can feel odd at first. As per my good friend — The bible says that the peace of God surpasses all understanding, and I have to agree. If I tried to describe it, I’d come up short, which doesn’t happen with other feelings.
Maybe that’s why for a while, my brain didn’t like it. It felt too slow, too dull. Peace doesn’t rush or strife. Now I dig it. I have room to go into my emotions but not feel attached to them.
I like peace.
I want to come back to it often. I still get angry, sad, excited, anxious, worried, loving, and everything else, but I’m eager to return to home base.
I made peace with peace !
