A Sense of Peace

Peace is technically defined as a lack of hostility, which is something in itself I would argue against. There’s nothing wrong with hostility, or even enmity; to the contrary, actually. Me? I define it as a lack of conflict… and if you know anything about how I see conflict, there’s no such thing as a lack of it for anything that’s alive. Not for plants or single-cell organisms, and not for apes or humans. I could explain conflict in much the same way I’ve explained power (refer to Vulgar Displays of Power(V.D.o.P. has the most relevance to what I’m talking about here) or The Necessity of Power).

There are different intensities, so vulgar and blatant it’s hard to miss, or so subtle that you don’t even notice – but it’s there, if you pay attention, if your perceptive enough to see it. Conflict is friction, it’s the mingling of various influences, pulling and pushing to overcome each other. That all forms of life have a drive of some sort (at least, as far as I’m concerned), some kind of desire (however simple or complex)… they all exert influence, they’re all in conflict with something or someone at every moment. Peace is a sense of not being immersed in conflict, a sense of security and safety. I just don’t believe that such a sense of peace is ever really true or accurate to reality, to what Is.

So when I feel a sense of peace, it’s a lie. And I remind myself of that when I start to slip under the comforting veil. With enmity, mutual hatred, or even just plain low-key hostility – things that conlict seems exclusively associated with way to much, to the point that for some people conflict is synonoymous with enmity – I don’t know if I’d say I always derive pleasure from it, persay, or even that I’m always mindful enough to grow in the midst of it, but… I find myself able to appreciate it because of how I look at it. I don’t feel a need to demonize less palatable, less pleasant, or unfamiliar intensities of it.

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