When I participate in demonstrations for peace, I have to overcome my skepticism, which often prompts me to stop and ask myself and others a simple yet blunt question: “What’s the point?”
Images from the daily news immediately come to mind. We have become all too accustomed to seeing these images, even though they depict the horrors of destruction and death that dominate our world.
I have to breathe deeply and repeatedly – like when you gasp for air, desperately looking for oxygen as if you were suffocating -, before I can open the window in that room where my gloomy thoughts want me locked up, making me believe that there is nothing to do, so I can collapse into my powerlessness and sadness.
Yes, admittedly, gathering in squares and parading through the streets, flanked by police and shouting slogans for peace, isn’t very effective anymore. Demonstrating while engaging in casual conversations, taking selfies, and recording videos with friends who joined us for the occasion can seem quite ridiculous, if not outright pathetic.
Yet, a layer of icy indifference covers our hearts just like the tar coats the dirt on the streets we walk, and we still haven’t found any better ways to scrape it away.
Sure, we want to protect our hearts. Sometimes, it is necessary to cope with the panic attacks and the anxiety caused by the constant news and images depicting inhumane violence, set against a backdrop of blood and ruins. We are continuously exposed to this narrative, which comes with a useless and inappropriate sense of guilt: after all, what are we guilty of?
Who is orchestrating all of this? Is it me, or are there other ordinary citizens planning and waging wars? Are we gaining anything from this—whether in economic, territorial, or political prestige on both international and national levels? I don’t believe so! Yet, we can generate potential war material, although unconsciously. This material is highly flammable, corrosive, and destructive. We manage to do this even before the actual development of the various weapons financed by a Ministry of Defence that we also fund, although not voluntarily!
For example, in my small existential sphere, I wonder how much ‘gunpowder’ I produce through my defensive reactions, feeling attacked in all sorts of ways, whether the threat is real or perceived. These attacks seem to undermine aspects of myself, such as my image, will, freedom, serenity, sense of ownership, and self-esteem, among others. And when I find myself attacking someone else—always in defense of these vulnerable areas—I wonder how many harmful words and actions I come up with, like shooting arrows with a bow or throwing hand grenades. Oh! If only we could tangibly visualize these conflicts, like toxic clouds that linger after explosions on the battlegrounds of our daily lives!
There is something that I can do then, first and foremost. And that’s laying down my own weapons.
Without triggering this process, one remains trapped in a military zone, surrounded by barbed wires and barracks, where the focus is on developing as different as many strategies to annihilate enemies, in the unwavering belief in having the right perspective, being in the right, expecting respect from others or refusing to be subdued by anyone else.
Then, how can I escape this minefield, where I am the first to get hurt?
It may seem impossible, but it is not.
A simple ‘STOP’ is all it takes.
A signal to stop and change direction.
Therefore, all the energy we use to recharge our warning system—much like how steam trains were once replenished with coal—should be redirected towards reducing our ‘heat pressure’. This means dismantling our internal arsenal and cooling down our anger through refreshing deep breaths, while also diving into the depths of our inner emotions. Like deep-sea divers on a reconnaissance mission, we explore these deeper feelings, often unfamiliar, that trap us in reactive patterns and lead to violence in all its forms, both subtle and explosive.
In the depths of the ocean, various types of fish continuously search for shelter to escape predators. Similarly, we need to seek a safe space within ourselves where we can be authentic, fearless, and therefore defenceless—vulnerable yet secure and at peace.
Only in this safe space can we develop trust in life, breaking free from the cycle where everyone is necessarily someone else’s prey. We can then float back again towards the horizon of freedom. In this space alone, can we become open to new words that can inspire alternative thoughts, perspectives, and choices—choices that differ from those shaped by our defensive modes. Simple autogenic training is not enough to break free from our ingrained patterns of conflict; neither is merely reciting a mantra for peace. Demonstrations and protests, or even shutting down the arms industry, will not fully liberate us from the longstanding war system that has historically dominated human beings and their cultures. We must exit our own conditioned minds, breaking free from this deadly cycle!
However, this is not one of our simplest human abilities. Neither is creating life. While we can bring about death, both our own and others’, we cannot create life itself. We do not possess it, even though we attempt to replicate it in laboratories or extend it through technological means. Throughout history, we, as human beings, have needed to find our origin—the source of our existence—to truly be human and alive. Without it, we become a mere clump of cells, which can suddenly go crazy, as our bodies are showing us, unfortunately, more and more clearly.
If the choice to adopt a different behaviour in order to avoid a destructive conflict relies on me, then so does my understanding and acceptance of my rightful stance against the forces at play within me and in the Universe. The difference I can make within a planet system or my smaller relational system is significant; if I disrupt the harmonic order in any way, its echo will propagate at all levels nonetheless, with all its repercussions, even if I am unaware of how or when this will occur.
Given this, why should anyone be surprised by the many terrible things happening in the world?
Now, all my words here are useful to explain myself, as I feel that the means available to oppose the powers of war and their choices are insufficient. I still strive not to give in to indifference and passivity, even as I recognise that I, too, contribute to this infernal system—if only in a partial way. Still, all my words lead me to a closed door. Here, I can only knock and wait, silently, for it to open.
Here, I can listen for the words I need to escape the field of death and move toward those endless meadows of life. A life that I can join in while it unfolds, among blades of grass and shining galaxies, with a simple and delicate breath, intertwined with an infinite relation of love.
The only one that stands forever.
Vallefoglia, end of Advent 2024