YOU WILL NEVER BE AT PEACE with yourself, or others, because peace is death. Thank the stars for this.
This idea of ‘seeking peace within oneself’ sounds beautiful, but, like “good” “evil” and “morals,” peace is no more than a human construct, and a terribly flimsy one that is held up by little more than thousands of years of passive acceptance. Nature doesn’t know peace. The rabbit wars with the wolf, the tree with the weevil, the river with the bank and even the stars battle with entropy and time. The only peace found in nature is death.
We humans, as much a part of nature as any rosebud or solar flare, are also not born to be at peace. We live to revel in the peaceful moments, and, done well, a series of such moments can make for a beautiful life. Those who seek complete peace as their baseline will forever be rolling boulders uphill. Consider the dead but alive Buddhist monks sitting in caves, who have chosen to undergo extreme program modifications. Have they found peace? Or, as they selfishly prey on the selflessness of the poverty-stricken living villagers who feed and clothe them, do they simultaneously execute the trick of off-loading their worries of shelter, food, and clothing onto others? Consider, too, the factory owners and titans of industry. Could it be that peace, in one of its tangible forms (time, security, etc.), is a fungible asset?
Curiosity itself is a war between knowing and not knowing. A person truly at peace cannot contain a semblance of intellectual spark or creativity. No fire or flower will issue forth from such a zombie. Peace, then, may be fairly viewed as the enemy and destroyer of human potential.
Imagine real peace in your life. Imagine achieving the monk in cave scenario, with all needs met for a lifetime. Imagine, too, knowing that you will never again have concerns for your health or wealth. Now consider the intellectual and creative stupefaction that will set in swiftly when you become little more than a well-fed zoo animal. In every society, throughout all classes and vocations, over the whole spread of human existence, we see the truth in this. The satisfied artist. The freedom fighter who devolves into a corrupt politician. The righteous youth turned, predictably, into the timid homeowner. We are made to fight and fuck and grind and crash and smash our way, just like the wolves, weevils and stars. Peace is the enemy and destroyer of human potential.
As stated, peace is death. This works well between societies, where peace means the death of war. But as beings, let us better accept and revel in the clashes within and between us that drive us to explore and wonder and marvel at what we don’t, and never will, know.