How to live 15-19

Chapter 15 Health A Happy Balance

Extremes in food, clothing, exercise, facial appearance, health, or safety can sometimes disturb the basic friendliness and compatibility of the body and turn it into an annoyance. But a middle road can be walked whereby the body is comfortable in most respects and thus is not a preoccupation.

The body is best clothed comfortably, but not distractingly. It is best fed so that its well-being is enhanced and protected, yet not so restricted that it is imbued with sacrifice and deprivation, which are themselves indisposing. It is unhappy to over-adorn the body, yet to neglect its appearance so that it becomes unpleasant to look at is equally unhappy.

Letting the body go brings no true relief to the mind, nor is it satisfying to try to push it to enviable levels of health and energy. Furthermore, the body's safety should not be neglected in the name of a spiritual path or to demonstrate trust in God. On the other hand, to become fanatical about voiding all conceivable mishaps is simply a miserable way to live.

To guide our body in a balanced, reasonable way is difficult in the present climate in which people are taking extreme stands on every possible bodily issue. When Sri Krishna Kashyap first came to this country to practice Ayurveda, a woman came to him with a mild stomach disorder, and he suggested that she drink a little dill seed tea each day. When she came back two weeks later, he asked how she was doing. "I'm afraid there hasn't been much improvement. My stomach isn't feeling so good." He was surprised to hear this. "Have you been taking the dill seed tea every day?" "Oh, yes," she replied. "Well then, tell me what else your diet consists of." "Oh, nothing else," she assured him. "I've been drinking only the dill seed tea."

With this as the general approach to life surrounding you, you want to stay alert to any tendency you feel to go to extremes. Gently decline to be influenced and return instead to your own natural intelligence. It is possible, for example, to discover for yourself what combination of foods makes your body happy, gives it stamina, and allows it to sleep well, and also what saps its energy, lowers its resistance, or stirs it up in some disagreeable way. If you will go about this sensibly and not rush the process, you can come to have a confident sense of what to eat and how to eat it. So, too, is it possible to develop a pleasant and sure instinct of what to wear, when to use makeup and other aids to appearance, how and when to exercise, what to do when ill, and which allowances to make for your age.

We must not underestimate our resistance to this. The normal tendency is to fluctuate between extremes: rigidly punishing the body on one hand and giving up on it on the other. The happiest body is the one that does not stand out in either a negative or a positive way. It is a body that is comfortable with itself, as well as comfortable to look at. Even a very elderly body can be gentle on the mind and on the eye if the mind that inhabits that body is at ease with the body's age and physical state.

As we develop a loving sensitivity to our highly individual constitution, we become accepting of its changes, even of its illnesses and injuries, and also of the diminishing capacities that accompany advancing years. It is possible to be sick in peace, have one's period in peace, experience menopause in peace, grow bald in peace, become less sexually arousable in peace, and be quite old and withered in peace. The time will arrive when you will look in the mirror and know that the call to be the centerfold will never come, and that very afternoon you may be warmly praised by some member of the younger generation for making it up the post office steps. None of this has to cause anguish, but for it not to, we first need to be at home with our body, so that its changes in appearance and physical capacity are not feared or denied.

The Body as Pet

There is now a trend, some of it within the body-mind-spirit movement, to identify less with the body. Unfortunately, this often has the reverse effect of what we desire. Instead of increasing communication with our deeper self and bringing into sharper focus the part of us that is not always changing, it tends to confuse our sense of identity and sets up little wars within our mind. Even from a metaphysical standpoint, until individuals awaken or ascend, the body is part of their mind. Thus, it's unlikely that the mind can remain peaceful while denying what the body needs.

The key to a happy, healthy body is to treat it like a beloved pet. If we project our moods onto our pets, as we so often do with our body, we respond to them inappropriately. But if we look closely at our pets and identify with what they are feeling, we are a comfort to them, and they in turn are little gifts of affection and funniness to us. Most of us have a more balanced sense of how to identify with a dog than with a body. We love our dog today, but we can't love our body because we are waiting for it to be different. But by not being apprehensive about our dog, we give him the gift of seeing him as he is. We know that on summer nights he likes to be in the fenced backyard where he can practice defending us in his highly vocal way without worry of being confronted by another dog. Perhaps in winter, we put him up at night on an old blanket in the corner of the kitchen. We don't wash his bedding too often because we know that he likes things that are well worn and have a familiar smell. Neither do we insist that he sleep on the king-size bed while we take the couch. This would distress him greatly, and he might end up on top of us, licking our face and asking for forgiveness.

We are acquainted not only with his pleasures, but also the diameters of his health and constitution. So we feed him a good but simple diet. We don't scrape just anything into his bowl, nor do we thaw out every cut of meat in the freezer and pile it around him just because he would think this is very exciting. We know that these kinds of indulgences would make him sick. We recognize that a few knows keep him happy and safe. So we keep him off the street and far from skunks and porcupines. We exercise him and bathe him and take him to get his shots. And we do not expect him to understand why or to feel like obeying all instructions. There is no real war in this relationship because there is neither neglect nor a battle for perfection. He is just a dog, and He is our dog, and so we love Him and guide Him and treat Him fairly. In return, he is our innocent friend and harmless companion. And as long as we have it, why must our body be anything less? Therefore, when we have a question about what to do or not do for our body, a helpful exercise is simply to ask, "If my body were a beloved pet, what would I do?"

It is innocent to be sick. As a culture, our definition of what it means to be sick has become increasingly arbitrary. This is a reflection of our tendency either to denigrate or to romanticize the body. Having a cold or flu is being sick, but to be unhappy or afraid is not. Loss of bone mass from radiation received at work is an illness, but damaged legs and hips from skiing or jogging is not. I was once at a party and a man who rode a hog, a Harley Davidson, saw the bandage on my forehead and asked if it was a dirt bike injury. "No," I said. "I had a small growth removed." I watched his estimate of my character instantly plummet.

It is unnatural for one to be sick, because sickness itself is looked at as unnatural. Anger, on the other hand, which can resemble an asthma attack, is often treated as a sign of courage and self-respect. Somehow the illness, whatever it is, should not be happening to us. Even though we live in a world of sickness, we should not be sick. If we are, someone is to blame. Maybe a friend was negligent while contagious. Maybe we somehow chose the illness. Maybe someone in our life is a negative influence. Maybe it's the fault of the FDA, AMA, dairy lobby, beef lobby, pharmaceutical industry. We can never settle on where to place blame permanently. We are certain of one thing only: blame must be placed. Small wonder that we narrow so absurdly what we call sickness and that when we can no longer escape even our own arbitrary definitions, we try to run away from our sick body and out from under the time of our sickness. "When will this be over? Why did this happen to me?" In the course of thinking these thoughts, we once again do not look at our body. We mentally avoid it and deny it and never wholeheartedly give it time to rest and heal.

Once, when Jordan was 16 months old, he had a typical reaction to his last measles-mumps-rubella shot. At the same time, John, then five years old, had a mild case of flu. Some of our friends thought that Gail and I were to blame for John's condition, because two days before we had taken him to a birthday party, even though it was the height of flu season. Some other friends believed we were the cause of Jordan feeling bad. There are authorities and their followers who advocate never giving certain shots to children, as well as those who say always give them. More often than not, both sides believe that any who does not do as they warn deserve the consequences. Not surprisingly, they are secretly glad when the child gets sick because this appears to prove their position. These are miserable lines of thought that Gayle and I have tried to avoid by refusing either to defend our position or to urge it on others. The truth was that we didn't know. Who really does? So we admitted this to ourselves and made the best choice for our kids that we could. All parents have available to them a peaceful preference about what to do at the moment. This they can feel when they dwell on their love for their child rather than on their many noisy fears of making a mistake.

Earlier I said, "Practice knowing and you will know." It is good to distinguish between the knowing that comes from fear versus the knowing that comes from peace. Much of the world's unhappiness results from lumping them together. We can always know what we believe in the present, and this form of knowing can be practiced until it becomes a calm, steady assurance. Gail and I didn't know what the results of the birthday party or the shot would be in advance, but we sat quietly long enough to discover what we believed was the most loving option for each child. Faced with a decision, most people's desire is to see their way through. But that blocks their present knowledge of what they believe. We naturally wish to protect ourselves from making a mistake, but mistakes, as the world usually perceives them, do not truly matter within the present. They are an interpretation of something that will come later. Remember that your goal is happiness, and that this state is composed of kindness never delayed, but exercised always in the present. Happiness isn't what merely looks kind, but what feels kind in our heart. You cannot seek to be perceived as right by the world and at the same time be gentle to yourself and others, because these goals apply to different times. You can be right in the future, but you can only be kind now.

Kindness toward children is the same as toward relatives, friends, and strangers. It is the touching of hearts, the acknowledgement and embracing of connection. It is the gesture of the inner spirit and as such cannot be judged by the future. In the case of the birthday party and shot, the one factor that we had in hand was our love for our children. We worked hard to make this factor the deciding one, and despite the criticism we received, we noticed that both our children were happy, even though they were also sick.

Being sick naturally. Frequently, children are sick more happily than adults because they don't get entangled in guilt, panic, blame, worry, and other irrelevant emotions. They are simply sick. Jordan and John would no more have thought of faulting themselves or us for their symptoms, then it would have occurred to them to assign guilt to being out of breath from running, feeling groggy at night, having weak arms after carrying a heavy load, experiencing chills from certain noises, being blinded by bright lights, or any other symptoms of bodily limitations accepted by the world as perfectly healthy. They had not yet made illness an unnatural part of life. Consequently, their minds were relaxed enough to adjust to it when it came.

Being at ease with an illness, provided it is not physically devastating or life-threatening, is also an attainable state for most adults. Most of us see nothing unnatural about our body being temporarily younger, stronger, more smooth-complexioned, or more eye-catching than other bodies. We don't feel compelled to conceal these disparities. Yet, we are embarrassed to call in sick. In contrast, most little children think nothing of stopping abruptly in the middle of play and telling their playmates, "I have to sit down now, I have a tummy ache." As yet they have no silly, healthier-than-thou self-image to uphold. Children are also happier because they don't use illness as a time for soul-searching. We who are supposedly wiser believe we must find significance in the way we get sick. Before they run off, his playmates don't counsel the child with a tummy ache to work on his unwillingness to digest new situations. Yet let the modern adult get sick and they feel they must torture themselves with books, articles, and snatches of conversation that relate infirmities to character traits and behaviors. No longer do people have simple constipation; they are now tagged as emotionally repressed. Gallstones point to latent hostility. Sore throats mean you're uncommunicative. And lower back pain is fear of money. I kid you not, I can show you the book. Certainly there could be such connections in individual cases, but isn't it obvious that these formulas are so generalized as to be meaningless? And what real purpose do they serve? I heard another one a while back. A friend went to a seminar and told me the speaker said that cancer was an inability to love. In my work, I have known many cancer patients, and this statement is completely untrue. Is it realistic to think that the promulgation of such a concept will result in cancer patients becoming more loving people? Will it deepen the bond between them and their nurses, therapists, and doctors? Will it add to their peace and lessen their misery?

When we get sick, there is at least one lesson we should learn from children. Little kids don't mark time. They settle into the moment at hand, and illness is often no more than our body's way of calling for a halt, calling for rest. Provided your work or parenting demands allow, do the things and take the remedies that will make this one day a little easier. If this means bed and a good book, let it be this without guilt. Ask not why it started. Have no interest in when it will be over. Set no goals that put you at odds with your condition. As best you can, remain sick in the present. The unhappy part of our mind is always trying to get us to do what we do not need to be doing now. If we are ill, it's always best to cut back on everything we can and arrange the situation so we can be as comfortable as possible. Often there is someone who would be glad to help us out. In fact, they would feel loved by being asked. Trading away our peace of mind to save ourselves the temporary embarrassment of asking for help is a poor bargain. Nor do we demonstrate more character by turning down medicine or a trip to the doctor. Since many people now believe that taking medicine is a spiritual or moral failure, when they do succumb, they tend to overdose themselves, trying to eradicate every telltale symptom of the shameful state. Do not carry on as if you were not sick. This is arrogant, not noble. So don't become alarmed and begin chasing about for a silver bullet remedy or try to shake the illness as if it somehow could be ducked from under. Be honest with yourself quickly. You are sick. Then resolve to be thoughtful and generous to your body.

Life-threatening illness. Very often, when people learn that they have a life-threatening illness, they become profoundly confused and sometimes even physically disoriented, because they unconsciously believe that they have been singled out for special punishment. Quite naturally, they do not understand. The disease appears to have picked them out from thousands, and there seems to be no sound reason why they were selected. And indeed there is no reason, and no authority or book has ever succeeded in making it completely and finally understandable to anyone. If it were genuinely understandable, it would also be reasonable. And in what conceivable way is it reasonable to find yourself in pain and dying of a disease?

Although people with a life-threatening illness cannot be expected to recognize this at first, we can hope that eventually they will see that to continue pursuing the question, "Why me?" is to enter a dark and hopeless pit from which it can take a long time to pull themselves out. Any line of thought that leads inevitably to guilt is of no use to you, for it will merely increase your sense of misery and so distract and disorient you that you will not be as sensitive to needed steps as you might otherwise be. It is never helpful to assume responsibility in the sense of taking on blame. Attack in any form is neither responsible nor truthful, yet criticism and guilt are frequently more prevalent in cases of life-threatening illness because of the bewilderment those involved are often thrown into. It is not more honest to blame or more humble to feel guilty. These attitudes will not relieve your mind, and they will never truly succeed in rallying your friends to draw close. So do all you can to direct your mind into more helpful channels.

Because confusion over the true cause of the illness is so common during its early stages, those individuals affected need to get into a calm and peaceful state, as calm and peaceful as is possible, and try to see what steps they wish to take. As in all other matters, every option should be considered. If done without panic, this will bring a small measure of relief into the mind, as it becomes clear that there is more than one course available. Do not be afraid to try or not to try anything. This is your body, and you are free to proceed as you choose. So look at your disease with your peaceful instinct. Freeze the situation in calmness and examine it carefully. Then, open yourself to all possible alternatives and begin with whatever first steps you find are the most comfortable ones to think of taking.

It is never a good idea, and this is especially true during the period just after learning that you have a life-threatening illness, to begin indiscriminately mentioning your situation to others. Very few people can resist the urge to warn and advise. One or two people in whom you have deep confidence can be confided in, but you wish to avoid the inevitable confusion that comes from just hearing contradictory opinions. Do not assume that you are beyond being influenced by well-meaning people in just this way. Conflict can enter your mind almost unnoticed and suddenly find yourself doubting your own peaceful knowing and do not understand where your uncertainty came from. Confusion comes from worrying about making a mistake rather than from being open to taking a step. Very often the advice one gets from relatives and friends is tainted by their quite natural anxiety and will agitate and fragment your mind rather than calm and focus it.

Follow a course that is your course. If you wish to die in peace, that is your right. If you want to try many approaches to do everything medically and alternatively that you can, this is also your right. To first inform yourself is fine and can be a definite part of coming to your own way. But you do wish to monitor carefully your tolerance for new articles and pronouncements. Remember that these will never stop. There will never be a final announcement made on which all minds suddenly agree. So you will wish to chart your own course through all of this, taking what information illumines your way, and not fearing to decline to read more once you have settled on an approach. If you have strong confidence in a particular doctor or someone else in a position to guide you, then it is best to begin with this person and listen deeply to what is said. After you have received the counsel, take it into your heart and gently arrive at your own decision. Frequently, individuals reach a peaceful decision, but then it is thrown and tossed about in their mind. They talk about it to others. They read a new article, and very shortly they are again, dismally uncertain and confused. Please observe that these bulletins, articles, chat room statements, and so forth, conflict dramatically. It is essential that you plot a course within all these opinions that is your own course, your own way. Do not be afraid to trust yourself, to think your own thoughts, and to walk gently and easily toward your goal, whether this is to go all out to heal the condition, to learn to live with it in peace, or to die in an atmosphere of your choosing. Honor your heart in all ways, and your choices will be good and kind to all.

We are not alone. Fear is the great companion of all illness. There is always a tendency to withdraw into that fearful part of oneself, to shrink into a frightened little object and to be one who is alone. Plotting one's own course does not mean diving into martyrdom, loneliness, and isolation. The ego involvement we all have in illness, any illness, is always a form of withdrawal, or more precisely, a withdrawing into our unhappiness and a withdrawal of our love for others, regardless of whether our outward contact with them remains the same or is increased.

In learning to develop and trust our own instinctive knowledge of our body and what it needs, and thereby becoming less dependent on the inconsistent opinions of the world, we will actually develop a stronger rather than a diminished bond with other people. Your bond with everyone is found rather than lost within your own basic nature and knowing. Even in being less open to relatives' and friends' surface anxieties and advice, we should have a sense of joining them on this deeper level, of overlooking their fears and siding with the real love behind their gestures. If your illness requires that you rest and be physically alone, as most illnesses do, then hold your loved ones closely to your heart. Do not let guilt over your condition or false pride create within you vague feelings of distance and estrangement between you and anyone, for this is never a necessary part of being sick. You will find that it is often easier to see beyond other people's weaknesses when they are not around. So take advantage of the perspective that your physical isolation affords you by resting easy with any relationship that may come to mind.

In any discussion of the body, it must be remembered that if we become engrossed with how we differ from everyone else, we automatically lose sight of the deeper connections that bind us all. We can even come to believe that they don't exist. The desire for happiness, for simple peace, is a continuous stream running through the core of every person and joins us all in one unseen family. Thank you. Again and again our heart calls us to come back to our love for one another, to remember our oneness, and to treat others as we would be treated. By recalling our debt of gratitude to all who touch our life, we do more to promote our health and to lend a sense of well-being to our body than any procedure, exercise, or regimen that can be performed without love.

So many of the things we do for our body are carried on as if we exist in a vacuum. This is true even within teams, exercise groups, jogging clubs, and the like, where so often there is the form of joining, but not heartfelt oneness. This is a needless and sad waste. In trying to practice oneness, it is helpful to realize that you are attempting to pass beyond the very foundation of the world's unhappiness. It is not realistic for you to expect easy and dramatic results, but a little gain now can remain with you for a very long time. The unrelenting image that the world holds up for all to gaze upon is the image of separation, everything standing apart, and no realistic hope of all hearts beating as one. Whenever we get caught up in even the most trivial of worldly problems, we instantly take its picture of reality to heart and suffer loneliness in some form. The problem cries out, "Are you separate? Are you separate?" Learn not to answer this question, for only one small obsession with the world is sufficient to prove that indeed you are. A person can feel separate in a crowd, with a group of friends, even in the midst of a large family. Loneliness is not a friendless state. It is the major symptom of the world. It is the unavoidable price of taking the terrain one presently travels too seriously. The world does not work, and this still seems to surprise us. The feelings of not ever being completely understood, of having to be wary of using up other people's goodwill, of being saddled with certain relationships, of having too much to do by ourselves. These emotions are a constant and almost universal undercurrent to thought. They stem from placing great stock in how things go for us instead of how deeply rooted we are in our core. Yet, if there is no real awareness of the core itself and what it implies, no other outcome can realistically be expected. We will not first believe in a place of quiet within us and then experience it. We must have an experience first, and then another, and another, until our faith in its reliability and its locality begins to flood our mind. A distant light is dimly seen but not quite believed. Nevertheless, it is walked toward, and with each step it grows brighter. There is no mystery to this process. The following exercise could be such a step. Once in the morning and evening, for five or ten minutes, silently and slowly repeat these words: "I am gentle. I am peace. I am one." As you say this, try to become gradually aware of a place in you that the words point to, a place of utter stillness and peace, the one part of you where there is no loneliness and no change. While continuing to repeat these words, let this little spot of stillness grow. Let it expand. Watch it bloom, but do not want it to grow, and do not expect it to. You are simply focusing on a reality. And as you do so, it naturally becomes more obvious. Merely experience whatever you are aware of without measuring or judging a thing. Remember that you may not know this part of you well, so you may not be in position to calculate what it should be doing for you. What perhaps you do not yet believe is that this part of you is you. You are you. And because of that simple fact, you're not alone. Isn't it obvious that an experience is badly needed? So perhaps do this little exercise for several days.

Chapter 16 Relationship What to Expect

In no place is happiness sought more hopefully and dashed more consistently than in relationship. Still, we continue to see in it our delivery from a multitude of pains. This is doubly tragic, because our insight into the potential of relationship is actually well-grounded. But it's as if over and over we walk into a room of extraordinary beauty and peace, our room set aside for us, overflowing with the riches we long for, and each time come away with nothing, perplexed and angry, resolved never to try again. Yet, we don't know where else to turn. With a new relationship, at least we have hope. It seems that an aging man can be renewed by a young woman. An aging woman renewed by a young man. An unhappy marriage renewed by a baby. The expectation placed on the new body, the new friend, new doctor, new boss, new spouse is so great that soon it fails to live up to what we wanted. The doctor makes a mistake. The new friend has the wrong politics. The baby won't sleep through the night. Disillusionment gradually sets in, and soon the person must be turned away from in order for us to keep our sanity.

It seems naive to expect this pattern ever to be reversed, but as with all dynamics, we must first see how we participate. Until our part in these little dances of doom is recognized, we will continue blaming the new body, whatever its description, for the failure this time. Then we begin running after a new relationship to save us. What we expect of a relationship sets up initial disappointment and frequently leads to failure. We think it's only natural to have expectations, but our expectations are based on the past and are blind to the present. For example, many children want adults to give them only a narrow range of acceptable toys. When an adult doesn't know which gifts a child expects, the child can express sharp disappointment upon opening a present that isn't what she expects. The child has had fun with robots in the past, so now her first board game looks downright ugly and no fun, even though later, after giving it a try, the game might become her favorite plaything. It's a mistake, of course, to turn against a present because it's not what one expected, but it's a tragic mistake to reject a person because of expectations.

All expectations are a judgment, and there is no relationship, whether between a parent and child, between two couples, or between an animal and a person, that expectations will not undermine. Along with the right toys, children expect parents to provide the perfect childhood, and children don't even know what this is or should be. As children grow older, their ideas of what is needed constantly change. And later, as adults, they are uncertain whether to denounce or be thankful for the conditions under which they grew up. The expectations that parents have of their children are perhaps more conspicuous. Children should look a certain way. Definitely they should be intelligent and try hard in school. They should have many friends and be pleasing to adults as well, and so forth, whatever the values of the parents are. Even with a new baby, there are souring expectations. It shouldn't hiccup too much in the womb. It should come out easily. It should be the right sex. It should sleep through the night. It should nurse or drink its little bottle well. It should not have colic or unsightly rashes.

Certainly great expectations are placed on a new friendship, and even more so if it's potentially a romantic one. The long-term relationship is highly valued by the world, although at present it is cool to be fearful and overly cautious of forming even short-term ones. Yet, there is also a myth that a special few can have a lifelong union in which they stare meaningfully into each other's eyes, hang upon each other's every word, and are thrilled by each other's touch year after year. There is much pretense about this, and articles are written on how to maintain this type of relationship, how to add new mystery and spice. Rules are given on ways to draw back from the other person and hold him or her spellbound and in love with you forever. The expectations thus created are very sad, because they are so far off the mark that they tend to drive wedges between people who had a perfectly fine relationship until one of them was abducted by a magazine article.

An expectation is looking for something rather than looking at something. We anticipate one thing and do not clearly see the other thing that is at hand. Because what we anticipate is not there, we place a veil of mourning over all that lies beneath our gaze. What not to expect? If we could but look at it and want nothing, this day could comfort us and make us glad far beyond what we expect. We expect too little when we want only another version of the past. Discard fantasies and open your heart to the instant. This is feasible, but first you must assume that, unless you have already done the work involved, every relationship you have is to some degree obscured by what you expect of it, and expectations, like cataracts, must be removed. There is no way to see around them.

Set aside a few minutes and consider only one relationship, perhaps the one receiving most of your attention from day to day. Mentally stand this person before you and look carefully at everything that comes to mind. Search each thought for expectations for how you want this person to be. Consider his or her body, occupation, personal mannerisms, past and present behavior, selection of friends, dress habits, state of the world, opinions, anything at all you associate with this individual. Whenever you feel a tinge of irritation or disapproval, you can be sure that you have an underlying expectation. If, for instance, you're considering one of your parents and are recalling a recent phone call, if you remember being upset about something that was said, you must realize that you expected your mother or father to somehow be different. This could be a very long-standing expectation. The fact that people prove over and over that they are not a certain way does not lessen our wish that they were. For example, a divorce followed by years of estrangement from an ex-spouse often has very little effect on the anger felt over how he or she should have been.

If you find it difficult to become aware of the expectations you have, you might try the Gestalt therapy technique of pulling up a chair and then vividly picturing this individual sitting in it. With your eyes either open or closed, tell this man, woman, or child exactly what you want of it. Speak straight from your heart and hold back nothing. You can do this silently, but if that doesn't make the person seem real enough, try saying it out loud. When you have gotten everything off your chest, it's important that you physically get up, sit in the other individual's chair. Mentally become that person in every way you can and answer yourself back. Most people find it helpful to shuttle back and forth between chairs until everything has been set on both sides. You might think of this as acting out a dialogue between you and the individual. Notice that as you proceed, a gradually increasing level of understanding and sympathy develops, and your initial expectations begin to weaken. Sensing that this will happen, you may feel a strong resistance to sitting in the other person's chair. This comes, of course, from not wanting to understand the other person. This exercise also shows that to have expectations of others generates in them opposing expectations of us.

Once your expectations are identified, you must discard them from your mind so the relationship can be experienced in the present. This discarding process must not be undermined. For example, no matter what erasing technique we used, if we were to continue describing to others what we had to endure as a child, there is no conceivable way we could see our parents as they actually are today. To free our mind of expectations, we must stop complaining or telling witty stories about our ex-spouse, our new supervisor, our teenager, or the family down the street. Our mind will not accept a new truth while our conversations continue to deny it. One simple method for relinquishing expectations is to bring the person to mind and then go down the mental list you have made, saying with each item, "Use their name. I no longer want [specific expectation]. I want nothing from you. You are free." Say the words until you can sense that you mean them. Using mental imagery is another effective way of discarding expectations. One that I find helpful is to picture each expectation as a string I have tied to the other person, with a pair of golden scissors. Why golden? I don't know. Feel free to use the material of your choice. I cut each attachment until the individual stands free. Since the strings we tie to a relationship always connect at both ends, we are released along with the other individual. If you have detected a little of the ugliness that your expectations have spread across your image of another person, you can use a visualization that strips this away. A mask or costume can be removed to reveal the basic blamelessness, if not loveliness, of the person. I'm thinking of a friend whom, even though he has been this way for 25 years, I always expect not to be competitive. So I say to him now, "You are free to be competitive. You do not have to change for me to be your friend," and I picture my expectations lifting from him like a suit of unattractive armor.

Beneath the usual layers of expectations that each person carries into a relationship, there is often still another growing in strength. It is the very understandable anticipation of abandonment. The one who has been loved for so long may leave. And indeed, this is the way of the world. The spouse may die or find another. The best friend may become enchanted with individuals who move in another sphere. The parent may become old and mentally withdraw into some unreachable world. Somehow a way must be found to set aside all these sad images if we are ever to be free enough and present enough to have a real relationship with anyone. Yet, it seems so unlikely that such a task could be completed because the possible distressing turns that each relationship could take are so numerous. Many teenagers do, in fact, turn sullen. Babies are often surprisingly demanding. A parent develops an irrational fear of impoverishment. Of course, we can't ignore these difficult realities if they are occurring now, but one does not have to anticipate them if they are not. With all that could happen to our loved ones being shouted at us from every corner of the media, the only hope we have of partaking of the rich potential of our relationships is to want them and to have them within the present only. So often it seems that someone has to die before we realize all the opportunities we missed to be happy with this person. If only we had paused a moment and gazed at what was within our very hands.

However, ignoring the issues disturbing our enjoyment of a relationship is never called for. Although this approach is extremely common, it only allows issues to remain in place and fester. The problem does not go away, and neither does the habit of not addressing the problem. New ones are continually added to the old, until one day there is an unexplainable and permanent pall over the relationship, and it is no longer worth the effort. Our ego's solution to this dynamic is to bring up any hint of difficulty forcefully and at once and to attack the problem on the spot. As a result, these frequent confrontations, so valued now as signs of being yourself and owning your own power and setting your boundaries, produce the same long-term effect as ignoring problems. The relationship is eventually turned away from.

Resolving issues. If your partner has just done something that sets you off, this probably is not the time to bring it up, because you may not be able to do so without some element of attack, and this will only precipitate counterattack. It's worth the effort to question the value of seizing our first reaction and waving it like a red flag. Relationship problems should be recognized as they occur, but dealt with when the possibilities for cooperation are greatest. If you feel a sense of urgency, your ego is involved in some way. What harm can come from waiting for this to lessen? Your partner will also tend to react less defensively about what he or she did as time passes. Your chances of a resolution are further improved if your partner senses that you are bringing the subject up because your motive is friendship and not anger. So take a moment to think through why you are mentioning this at all. Become clear that you are seeking to strengthen the bond between you and not trying to correct an equal. If the no-fault concept can be applied to insurance, surely there is room for it in relationships. Couples frequently spend all their goodwill and most of their time together, attempting to blame and control each other. In order for an issue to be solvable, we must admit to ourselves that we have taken part in whatever has occurred. This procedure shows our mind the necessity of joining with our partner to solve a mutual difficulty. Simply recognize that each person plays a role in any disturbance. If this were not so, we would not feel disturbed. Participation is not always overt. Very often, one person is merely acting out what both individuals are feeling.

Among the most common and disrupting relationship problems is some undermining doubt that circulates in one of the party's minds. Within a marriage, for instance, as long as one spouse dwells on the question, "Should I get a divorce?" there is no hope of commitment, and you can be certain that the lack of it is always felt by the other. When the question of whether or not to leave is present, the tendency of the mind is to gather evidence against the partner rather than try to make the relationship work. Gathering evidence blinds us to innocence, and so a way must be found to put aside, at least temporarily, the question "Should I be in this relationship?" Or the other question friends and relatives love to plant when they say, "You can do better than this person." A simple device such as completely committing oneself to the marriage for one week, one month, or one year at a time can give it a chance to breathe and show its potential. Anyone is capable of answering the question, "Do I want to take the first step toward a divorce today?" If you see that at present you have no such wish, then try hard to have the best marriage possible for this entire day.

How to argue in peace. If a relationship is to avoid being crushed by the weight of its unanswered issues, a way must be found to eliminate them as they arise. We have already reviewed some prerequisites to attempting a resolution: being aware of our expectations, releasing the mind of fundamental doubts about the relationship itself, recognizing our own participation in the problem at hand, and waiting for a good time to bring the matter up. But once these conditions have been met, how can two people put a disagreement peacefully and permanently behind them? An issue can appear solved, but because one person intimidated, cajoled, nagged, or reasoned the other into compliance, and because the one who complied was not sincere, a residue of resentment remains. Although there may now be surface agreement, the relationship has not been helped. The means for correct resolution of an issue are always the same. The individuals must bypass their separate ego positions and unite. What form this takes does not matter, but in most cases, without some outward form, the process is never quite completed. By breaking a disagreement into its separate parts and arguing it out in a more formalized way, the mind can concentrate better and the heart has time to be heard. Even in the worst altercations, there are good moments, but they come at the wrong time. Our habit is to express our second thoughts and goodwill when they are most likely to be batted down. When the following ten steps are applied, they tend to sort out the jumble of pieces that make up an unsuccessful argument and put them into a workable whole.

1. Deal only with the present. The relationship may have already grown past the problems you keep recalling. So wait until an issue has genuinely entered the present. Simply because you are unhappy, do not dredge up old injuries. Remember that the relationship itself is always an easy target. Take the relationship as it is today. See the relationship and not its history. Do not endlessly discuss its problems and cherish them as part of its identity. Do not analyze the relationship. If there are no problems, don't think of any. Enjoy each other now, for this is the reason you are together.

2. If something comes between you, and it has if even one person thinks it has, sit down together as soon as practical. What your bodies do symbolizes your priorities. Thus, to discuss a subject on which there is a difference of opinion while doing something else—fixing dinner, driving, making love, eating—tends to deepen the conflict. If either of you is angry, both of you should first calm your minds before talking. Sit down together and quietly remember your purpose. Of course, for one of you to pressure the other into doing any of this will defeat your aim.

3. One at a time, state your ego position in as much detail as you wish, but do not justify it or argue its correctness. Describe your stance in complete honesty and openness, but do not attack your partner's stance.

4. Do not interrupt and do not call each other on breaking these guidelines. Your aim is to join in peace and you do not want to

needlessly stir up your partner's resistance by listing faults or calling attention to mistakes.

5. Deal only with the issue at hand. Avoid the inclination to lump together so many problems that resolution becomes impossible. Do not try to think of causes or connections. Do not bring up the past at all unless you're absolutely sure this will add to the chances of resolution.

Six, state your position again, only this time, instead of saying what you want, say what you are afraid of. You will always be willing to let go of a fear, once you see it as fear. But you will be tempted to feel resentful and deprived when you consider compromising on what you think you want. And your partner's fears will be more understandable to you than his or her demands or accusations. There is always fear behind these issues. They always symbolize something we are afraid of.

Seven, while your partner is talking, truly listen. Repeat to yourself, "Partner's name really means this." There's a tendency for couples to think that their partner's stance is pretense or that they have a hidden agenda because they are so obviously wrong. Respect is not earned, it is given. Unless you take this person seriously, you have no hope of uniting with an equal.

8. Close your eyes and remember your debt of gratitude to your partner. Be willing to use any mental trick that allows you to see what your partner means to you. Perhaps remember when you first met, or maybe list to yourself any recent signs of the other's thoughtfulness, gentleness, or patience. Although this can be done silently, Gail and I often make this a game. Taking turns, we cite ten instances of the other's goodness, cuteness, or desirability. When you are angry you can't think of a single redeeming quality, especially one you're going to have to say out loud. So if you play this, remember that the first few may be hard to think of, but if you persist, you will loosen up and the others will come more easily.

9. With your eyes still closed, decide on three gifts you want to give the relationship. Earlier you would have thought of these as compromises or concessions, but if you did step eight, such an interpretation is now impossible. Make sure that your gifts relate directly to the issue being resolved and truly serve to narrow the distance between you. Do not make grand, off-the-subject gestures. Simply think of a few specifics that are within your present ability to carry out happily. And make them genuine gifts that you know your partner will appreciate.

10. Open your eyes and, in turn, verbally share your gift. There will now be more than enough flexibility to resolve the argument. Maybe it will be seen as a non-issue by both. Maybe one of you will recognize that you do not feel strongly and the fact that the other does is all the reason you need to want the same. Maybe new options will have been thought of. Maybe the accommodations you both make will split the difference between you. If not, repeat the steps or perhaps just live happily with the effort made for a while until you both feel ready to try again.

Our sabotaging ways. People who don't have a relationship long to have one. People who are in one long to be free. When it comes to our own happiness, it takes a lot of honesty to admit just how perverse we are. For example, many of the questions that keep a relationship stirred up are unanswerable at the time the mind is revealing them. "Will my husband die before I do?" "Is my wife capable of having an affair?" "Will adolescence mark the end of this closeness with my child?" There is simply no way for a relationship to attain its lovely potential while questions of this sort are in the background. Unhappy questions like these are not put to rest by being answered because no final answers exist. Therefore, the questions themselves must be seen for what they are: the fear of being happy and discarded.

This is not easy, but we are free to choose not to consider seriously any question from our ego. The ego part of us does not want a relationship, any relationship, to endure. Union of any sort threatens its sense of autonomy. To our ego, value lies in being different. So for us to strive to have no real differences with our partner seems self-destructive. In our counseling, Gail and I have seen hundreds of examples of people switching sides just to keep a fight going. "You are never upset for the reason you think," says A Course in Miracles. Our ego is upset because upset prevents joining, and it guesses correctly that joining will be the death of it. Being right is our primary way of being different, and it always yields a feeling of distance and estrangement. The remedy is to recognize our far deeper desire for closeness and oneness and to use our considerable understanding of the other person first, to avoid unnecessary rifts, and second, to do only what will be received as love. If the gesture you have been making is not being interpreted as a friendly act, perhaps you should reconsider its form. You may not have sensed your partner's lack of readiness for what you're about to do. Our habit is to say what we would like said and to consider this reasonable. However, if we truly wish to treat others as we ourselves would be treated, we must learn to take an honest reading of the other person before we act, except possibly when dealing with strangers. It is not accurate to claim that we don't know other people's egos well enough to predict what they will receive happily. In an argument, we clearly know them well enough to say what will hurt or anger them.

The long warfares that Gail and I waged in the early years of our marriage, which are funny to look back on but were highly separating at the time, have been put behind us for many years now, and we are working hard to progress beyond the smaller flare-ups that still occasionally occur. This is a reasonable goal, and the love between us grows with each little gain made. However, the resistance to changing from misusing to using our knowledge of our partner can be surprisingly deep. There were many times over a period of several years when I thought the task was proving impossible. Now I realized that it was not the task, but my conflict over the ultimate goal that was holding me back.

Giving in. Consisting of impressions of our past, our ego was formed mostly in childhood and has been fortified ever since. It is a collection of conflicting lessons and beliefs that constitutes a self-image that does not match what we feel on the deeper levels of our mind or heart. We are not our ego, even though we each have one, carry it around with us at all times, and are influenced by it continually. As we turn to our peaceful core, we come to realize that we do not believe this superficial nonsense we have been thinking for all these years. When this point is reached, the mind begins shedding its ego identity at a fairly steady rate. As it begins to melt away, we become increasingly capable of uniting with other people on their heart level. We have, in effect, two identities: one that can join and one that cannot. As long as we defend our ego, our imaginary identity, we feel a strong resistance to giving into a union of two hearts because we recognize that our sense of autonomy or separateness will be weakened in the process. Nothing we truly want can be lost by loving too much. This fear, this resistance to giving in, only protects our unhappiness. If, for just an instant, we could see how utterly unimportant are these stands we are always taking, these opinions that must be respected, these personality traits that must be justified, we would know that sacrifice is never what is being asked of us. You do not want what you fight for. You want what you betray in order to fight. What could you possibly lose by seeking the peace of another person, by literally making another's peace your single-minded goal? You can certainly lose by destroying another's peace. In fact, loss will be the one reliable outcome each time you must be right. You can certainly lose by loving too little. But to love too much is to dare to be yourself, to be your own heart, which is all you have ever wanted to be.

In the West especially, many have assumed that the way to have a more reliable life and a more consistent state of mind is to get tough. One must not for a minute let up on one's body, one's behavior, or even on one's children and employees. Throughout America, teenagers are pursued through the house by irate parents, yelling, "Once again, you didn't take out the garbage!" Young people see the painful lives of their elders and believe they can avoid their aching loneliness by learning to keep their distance. "If it's inevitable I will suffer little desertions all my life, I must avoid getting close enough to anyone for it to hurt." The unexamined assumption is that our pain comes from closeness and gentleness. Thus, parents assume that incessant scolding and other forms of parental distance result in better control of their two-year-old, or that pushing their own body past its limits will eventually hush its little ways of whining. The thought of showing their body constant compassion seems as unreasonable to most people as being a true friend to their child or viewing strangers as their brothers and sisters. The pain of betrayal, faithlessness, and mockery enters through the ego, not the heart. Hardness, bitterness, withdrawal, anger, and other compassionless qualities that are turned to as means to steel ourselves against the falling away of friends and loved ones, make the mind more vulnerable to suffering rather than less. You will never suffer by being too faithful to another. If you do suffer, it will not be from love. The common counsel that the risk we must take if we want to draw closer to another person is the pain of rejection is as impractical a piece of advice as it is false, in its supposition that love can convey us to loneliness or that light can bring us the dark. There are definite causes of suffering, but gentleness, kindness, and acceptance are not among them.

The Ego Alliance. Although egos cannot unite, they can form alliances, and most relationships are no more than this. The nature of this foundation makes them eminently vulnerable to fallings out and breakups. They're also increasingly unhappy because there is always a growing dynamic of separation present. This is found within relationships of all forms: between lovers, children and parents, acquaintances, and of course within marriages. And essentially, it is the feeling of "you and me against the world." Within such an alliance, there may be a strong accord between the parties, especially on what is wrong with everyone else. A community of like interests is discovered or formed that generates on both sides an impression of agreement and closeness. Yet, when it is examined more carefully, it can be seen that these links are not so much mutual loves as similar dislikes. The ego part of us is never wholly certain of what it likes, yet it feels more definite about its dislikes. The basis of the average relationship is a mutuality of targets: the reprehensible conduct of the government and which candidate is loved for saying it like it is; the destructive policy of schools, and which authorities are recommended because they agree; the movies that are poorly done and which are the temporary favorites; and especially the behavior on the part of certain individuals that is laughable or objectionable and what contrasting behavior on the part of other individuals that is just wonderful. There is no true love and acceptance in any of this. What makes this foundation of a family's bond, of two couples' enthusiasm for each other, of a crew's spirit, of a friendship's fidelity, so tenuous is that fear and anger are self-immolating. Judgment cannot be felt for anyone outside of a relationship without also being felt within it. Therefore, relationships that are mere alliances are ultimately destructive of the participant's happiness.

Several summers ago, the four of us took a trip to the San Juan Islands. We rented a small American-built station wagon at the airport, and transported it to Orcas Island on one of the large ferry boats that shuttles there. In Santa Fe, we lived on a long, rough dirt road, and we had to switch to foreign-built cars because the various domestic ones we tried were demolished usually within a few months of purchasing them. Without being aware of it, we had developed a prejudice against all American vehicles. We were three days into our vacation before Gail and I realized why the tone between the four of us was not good. It seemed that every few hours something new would fall off the station wagon, and all the time we had been driving it we had kept up a running commentary. One day Gail was outside a grocery store when a man came up and asked how she liked her new wagon. "It's a terrible, terrible car," she said, and delivered our by now well-practiced list of horrors. "Oh," he said sadly, "I just bought one." Gail is a very kind person, and she backtracked as fast as she could, blaming the rental agency, retrograde planets, and everything else she could think of, and told the man she was certain he had not made a mistake, that it was actually a fine car. And of course, he didn't believe a word of it.

Once we realized that our critical frame of mind would not stay put, even though the target was inanimate, we surrounded the station wagon in light, resolved to think of it gently. And, as an inevitable result, the happiness we felt being together increased. Quite naturally, this also spilled over onto John and Jordan, but not onto the wagon, which remained as problematic as ever, thus giving us lots of grist for the mill. Gail and I had long since recognized that it destroyed our gentleness toward each other for us to indulge in judging other people. But we had not seen that to merely deplore the car one is driving, the house one is renting, the city where one is living, puts the relationship back on an alliance of hate basis and wipes out the quite fragile flow of loving feelings. Of course, many couples have not yet had a period of peace long enough for its absence to be noticed. Yet, once a real relationship begins to form, the rewards are so substantial that the amount of work required to keep it growing is usually eagerly and happily given. This is why it is so important for couples to have hope. A real relationship is an attainable goal, and it provides the most powerful sanctuary from the chaos and pain of the world. This is so because when two hearts unite, when two who are separate become one, no matter how they choose to describe it, they experience what has been called the Divine. They experience home.

Chapter 17. Loved Ones. What is a real relationship? The great and fatal wound of humanity is the ancient belief that selfishness works. What we have before us now is just a new version of a very old sadness. The true need, as it has always been, is merely to love, to accept, to be quick to help, to be slow to judge. And the reason is simple: You are forgiving and kind at heart. The one trait you will never be able to change is your gentleness. On the level where it exists, you are united with, not at odds with, the interests of every living thing. This truth gives you enormous potential for forming real relationships.

What then is a love-based or heart-based relationship? Who are the loved ones we all speak of? The dominant feeling in a real relationship is "you and me for the world," the precise opposite of the alliance-based relationships "you and me against the world." Upon first glance, this may seem an unattainable and silly position, yet far more effort is required to misunderstand others than simply to let them be. By trying to cast most individuals outside their relationship as different or dangerous, a couple or a family puts their own relationship under great tension and drives a wedge of guilt between themselves. It is never feasible to permanently unite against, because love is the only uniting force that endures. However, it is possible to take the impulses of acceptance and gentleness and try to turn them into rules of behavior. Being gentle doesn't mean becoming a doormat, and accepting others doesn't mean joining them in their selfish or hurtful acts. Love says no as effortlessly as it says yes. It seeks far more than to be inoffensive. Love is kind even to another's ego, but never cowers before it. Instinctively, the love in you will side with the goodness of the other person, but the other person may not respond positively. There is, after all, free will.

One common confusion that results from turning love into rules occurs when a relative or intimate friend makes a difficult request. Our mind begins to shuttle between the experience of love and our picture of what love is supposed to look like, and we become conflicted. How can we know if a request comes from another person's ego? Our happiness never entails judging anyone. And so we don't have to concern ourselves with where a request comes from, but merely with its effect on our mind. Any request that calls to our fear should be looked at carefully. You will often have a sinking feeling or a tinge of guilt just before you start to acquiesce to a demand that will hurt you. Just as with any question that comes into your mind, practice looking at the fears it generates and not at the question itself. When our mind is focused on a question, it is not focused on the answer. The answer is our state of mind. When the mind becomes preoccupied with a question, it gets noisy and scattered. Since the mind is our source of quiet knowing, our function is to keep it quiet. Although there is no general recognition of this, gentleness is in fact firmness, because gentleness is reliable and trustworthy. But within the general culture, anger, irritation, and moodiness are considered forms of firmness or toughness. Yet these emotions produce weakness and volatility. For instance, way too many parents discipline out of their mood. Because they are unpredictable, they merely end up making their children afraid of them. One night, the child is ignored or thought funny for kicking the parent while being dressed for bed. On another night, the child is snapped at or worse for the same behavior. This approach increases resentment, even in young children, and can end up making them as erratic as their parents. Parents who are deeply gentle refuse to react out of their passing moods and are therefore consistently in a position to steer the child away from the unhappy approaches to life that any youngster is sure to try out from time to time.

Acceptance is frequently seen as a dangerous concept and it obviously runs counter to the values of our times. Unfortunately, these values are particularly hostile to the formation of real relationships. We know a mom and dad who have a nine-year-old who loves outer space cartoons. They regularly tape those they feel are not too disturbing and let her watch them after school, but they allow no TV during meals and certain other times of day. A few years ago, the couple took in the husband's elderly father, who is mentally sound and relatively healthy but no longer has the stamina to live alone. For over a year, feelings between the father and the son were stirred up daily by the son's insistence that his father's longstanding habit of watching TV during dinner could not be permitted in their household. In the course of receiving counseling, the son discovered that he was the victim of an almost universal attitude within relationships. He could not give in because he had already lost too much ground, in this case to his wife, to his daughter, and in years past to his father. Once he recognized the meaninglessness of this fact, he was able to open his eyes to the many options he had to resolve the issue. The one he chose was to buy another TV and invite his father to watch his programs and take whatever meals he wished in his bedroom. His daughter did not object to unequal treatment as he had feared. In fact, she was relieved at the improvement in atmosphere. The aggrieved feeling of always losing ground, of always having to be the one who compromises, is a much encouraged attitude of our time. Many articles, talk shows, interviews with celebrities, and self-help books feed the current wisdom that one's personal growth comes before all else. "Above all, we need our space, our energy, our time. Every individual has a right to sex at a certain level of excitement, to a job that fulfills, to a partner and children who know just when to leave us alone. This is what you have coming, and you must not back down on any of it." The many pronouncements on this subject can sound virtuous, practical, and we have all perhaps been unconsciously influenced by them to some degree.

What then must we do to join rather than ally ourselves with another? First, we must look inside and see there someone who knows peace, someone who knows genuine love. We must feel the existence of such a self somewhere within, no matter how layered over. Then we must be willing to step beyond our egos, beyond our scared little defensive identity, and into that person we wish to be: one who does not look for faults, one who is not temperamental, one who is not jealous. And we must be willing to do this a hundred times a day if necessary. This may seem terribly, impossibly beyond our abilities, and so we simply begin meeting the like-minded. The makings of your first real relationships are before you now. They are already within the bounds of your present daily routine: two friends, an individual and an animal, an adult child and an elderly parent. There is no end to the many potentially tender and lovely relationships available if only a start is made and the effort continued as best you can. But remember that the effort is to see innocence and is not a flurry of smothering gestures. It is to think gently and not to get a gentle response. It is to give peace and not to be left in peace. It is to understand even when misunderstood. If, for example, you are a father and you are estranged from your adult son, your function is to be a loving dad. It is not to have a loving son. If you're a mother and your daughter doesn't respect your opinions, your function is to respect hers. Concentrating on doing our part is actually a simpler approach to life than watching to see if others are doing theirs. Much simpler. As you put yourself in a mental position to have real relationships, they begin occurring naturally, provided you aren't too picky. It is not wise to target a specific person and place your hopes on this one individual's reaction. If you will, in a sense, make yourself one half of a real relationship, other halves will blossom around you. But, again, avoid anticipating changes in individual people. Otherwise you will build up your expectations and become increasingly self-absorbed. It's important that you rule out no one with whom you have contact, unless it's a person who calls to the worst in you. Just practice being a friend to the person before you now and you will gradually discover those who are capable of connection. Even though the world puts great value in numbers, you don't wish to count your friends like a miser counts money. Be rich in your ability to stay at peace. Be the kind of person you want to be and because of the nature of the human heart, you will see the like-minded.

Since it's the repeated small beginnings and not the grand breakthroughs that carry us forward, I want to suggest a limited but effective way of practicing being a person who is capable of a real relationship. Select one or two events where you will be encountering a few people over a sustained period, such as a party, a visit with your parents, an outing with a friend. As close to the beginning of each occasion as feasible, schedule a brief period of mental preparation. Five or ten minutes should do. During this time, decide how you wish to be on this occasion. Do you want to be strong, kind, peaceful, centered? Select whatever qualities epitomize your heart's desire. Don't pick behaviors that run counter to your usual personality. For instance, if you are usually reticent, don't decide to be witty. Choose an inner atmosphere, not an affectation. Take the upcoming occasion into your mind and imagine your being this kind of person within it. Start at the beginning, perhaps your arrival at the place, and picture your every response coming from your chosen mindset. Remember that you alone are the focus of this exercise. Therefore, imagine people and events as they will probably be and not as you would like them. Go through the occasion in detail. Fantasize any range of expected or unexpected occurrences, but see your whole consistent self remaining the same. Be very disciplined about this, picturing each happening carefully until you have seen yourself through the entire event. During the event itself, let yourself be. If at some point you realize that you have forgotten your purpose, take a break. Go to the car, into the restroom, ask to use the phone and gently remind yourself of it. Then return to the occasion and relax into what is going on. Do not anxiously monitor yourself. Your preparation before the event was like giving your boat a shove into the water. So now, just row merrily.

Choose your encounters gently. It would be possible to have a relationship with almost anyone if we could somehow refrain from seeking signs of reciprocity. If we would not place our hope in another's ego, we could perhaps sense more easily the person's true feelings and would experience a kinship with this individual, whatever form that might take. Even though this is always a potential, often it's not helpful to have frequent contact with everyone available. Egos never love, but they do relate less disturbingly with some people than with others. Although mandatory relationships in the workplace are an exception, how much another's personality clashes with yours needs to be considered. If you see that you simply can't be around some individual without it upsetting you, there are other ways of practicing love besides direct contact. Perhaps a complete break is not necessary, but if you need to step back, that action does not have to be defined as irrevocable. Never abandon anyone in your heart, and if your actions symbolize rejection, refuse to give them this interpretation yourself. Whenever you step back with your body, step forward with your mind, maintain within you a place of tolerance for the person. And don't confuse yourself by thinking that you must discard your peace because of the appearance your withdrawal presents. Your ego will argue this, but continuing to love is your right. Do not insist on relating in only one way to someone who is difficult for you. If feasible, don't put yourself in circumstances where you are likely to make more mistakes than usual. You subject yourself to discouragement when your mistakes come too closely together. If situations that are hard for you go on too long, your reserves of peace become depleted and you begin losing ground. Sometime, of course, this can't be avoided. Naturally, there are relationships, such as with family members, that must be maintained in some way. Because to turn completely from one's adult child or elderly parent can be more disturbing to one's mental health than occasional contact. However, the difficulty of these encounters can often be modified. A mother may discover that she is lectured less by her son through email than on the phone. A father may use formula to feed the baby on periodic nights in order to give his wife a needed break from the baby. A sister may find that her brother is less argumentative if the visits take place at his house. We have a friend who phones his mother only during the day because the cocktails she has after dinner always make her maudlin and manipulative. Our ego is reluctant to take the simple step that will make a difference. The battle must be fought out on the same grounds until it is won, but in relationships there are no triumphs.

Within a difficult relationship, it is also helpful to understand our role in maintaining the problem. Often we set ourselves up for disappointment and pain by continuing to act in ways that have created friction in the past. We play out the role that has been given us, particularly in long-term relationships, and so we say and do what is expected of us. When another calls us to respond as we always have, it is always possible not to answer the call.

Don't be too spiritual at work. Many of us have relationship problems in the workplace. We find that disturbing encounters or disturbing atmospheres are the norm. Putting many people together under the same roof, as is necessary in some businesses, creates a rolling sea of anxieties, jealousies, sexual tensions, depressions, expectations, and competitions. Along with persistent moods, there are passing thoughts and feelings all around us. And often, as the day goes on, the effect is tiring and confusing. Naturally, this makes it difficult to practice some of the things we have been discussing, especially when the boss, a supervisor, or certain coworkers are truly disturbing. Often the best approach is not to try to practice any philosophy at all, but to simply go to work and do the job like a cog in a machine. The feeling is somewhat like leaving one set of clothes outside the workplace and putting on a separate set for the job. In this sense, the object is to practice shutting down our awareness so as not to pick up all the thoughts and emotions that swirl around us. As you drive or commute to work, slowly become this cog. By no means does this require us to do a sloppy job. In fact, it offers us a measure of insulation if we stay in the present, do the best job we can, and be thoughtful and kind to the people around us. So it is an excellent, not a shoddy, set of work clothes we put on. We are a celestial cog.

Gossip is a staple of most workplaces, and generally speaking, you will be happier if you don't resist this. There is no need to join in malicious gossip. No need to poison and be poisoned. No need to join an unkind alliance against a weak, misunderstood, or unfortunate individual. But very often, the kind of gossip that one encounters at work is harmless and can even be fun. Words are generally not the problem. If our heart is in a good place, we can usually let our mouth do whatever it does, just as we let our hands, feet, and eyes drive the car without trying to decide and control every movement.

The Gentle Option. The relationships one has should rest gently in the mind, cradled there like little flowers. They should refresh and brighten one's life. Truly, there is no need for any association to torture us and to go on as a plague upon our life year after year. Yet so many commonplace encounters are no longer thought of sanely: the grown child and elderly parent, the couple of many years, the parent and adolescent, the terrible twos, the terrible in-laws. It is believed that these and various other interrelations must be endured with some degree of unhappiness. There is even a certain pride taken in the sacrifice everyone knows is inherent. Jokes are made, and sympathy given, as if no option other than misery could possibly exist within these classic situations. The older couple, the parent and child, and all the rest, must not allow their minds to fall into these traps of dark categorization. If they do, they will find themselves playing out a needless tragedy with no insight as to a way out. It's not that there are no inherent difficulties in these situations, for of course there are. But no implacable law of unhappiness is at work within any relationship, no matter what stage it has entered. Those involved should not only free themselves of preconceptions, but they should also be wholly open to options of any sort.

Take for example an evening at home. Feeling at home. If all our individual prejudices were gathered together, probably no aspect of any relationship would escape some degree of self-fulfilling dread. We have discussed how on one hand the world looks to relationships for solutions to all its problems, and how, on the other hand, it sets up various ordinary interactions to be inescapable little hells. A time of relating that should be quite happy, according to the lip service accorded it, is the evening of the day. One is now off work, household chores are finished, and there is nothing to do but enjoy one's spouse or child or pet or all of the above. Some people believe so completely in this fiction that they actually commit suicide if they don't have it. They think they have been uniquely cursed because their life never offered it to them.

After sitting in school rooms much of the day or in front of the TV, younger kids often have a store of energy that they haven't released, and come evening they are ready to play. Their idea of fun usually involves acting out their imaginations in some energetic and repetitious way. Adults, on the other hand, are usually tired and slightly discouraged by the end of the day. And their idea of fun is often some quiet activity like reading, talking with friends, eating leisurely, or watching TV. And so the prevailing evening state in most families is a continuous, though perhaps covert, battle of wills. The adults feel constantly interrupted, and the children feel neglected. And of course, both are correct. Once again, there are always many ways around any unhappy dynamic, but they require openness to options and some initial effort. The happiness of the family rests in its attempts to join rather than to withdraw into private pleasures. This does not mean that everyone must stay in the same room doing the same thing, or that adults must give up their TV or evening newspaper. It means only that the mind itself does not exclude or long for some show of togetherness to be over with so that one can again be self-devoted. The ego does not understand that minds can continue touching even while bodies are separately engaged. Thus the principle is the same: Do not indulge in idle feelings of judgment or fear. Keep thought gentle. Keep the mind soft. Think kindly and easily, rather than rigidly and unhappily, and put your mental arms around those who are not beside you. Much less work is required to spend the evening this way than in defensive withdrawal. Just watch and try, watch and try, and your gain will be gradual and immense.

As to what specifically a family can do to begin eliminating the customary evening strain, perhaps a small amount of time could be set aside to try different activities. If the children of the family are young, maybe just before sleep everyone could join in letting go of the day. As children get older, there are an increasing number of games that can be played, and often just a few minutes spent this way can brighten the atmosphere remarkably. As an example, a game might be played in which the entire family sits in a circle and takes each individual in turn and surrounds that person in light, and sees them as wonderful and just perfect as is. Of course, children frequently have to be helped with these things and gently shown, and you must remember that they may act silly, because acting silly is part of their idea of fun. In a variation of this, a clock or timer might be used, the alarm set, and when it rings, everyone switches to the next person. And so you begin with the individual on your right. Surround that person in light. And at the sound of the alarm, go to the second person on your right and so on around the circle. In this way, everyone is being surrounded in light by someone at all times. A little game like this can be very nice. In another version, perhaps something is done verbally. Mother begins and says, "Daddy is friendly. Daddy is silly. Daddy is nice." And each one in turn adds some kind points about Daddy. Then this is done with the next family member and the next, always keeping the remarks gentle. Very soon a sense of joining and oneness has been created. A family might also do playful activities such as time in during which the child can speak openly, perhaps even an entire evening of silly talk. Children love this. Just silly, crazy talk. Or songs that each one adds to the lyrics, or funny sounds or funny faces that everyone tries to guess. Parents frequently think they cannot be silly and still maintain discipline. But that is silly. Yet silliness may not feel natural to some parents, and to force a person into this role would defeat the purpose of joining. Parents must learn not to make decisions out of fear of the future, but to make them in the present interests of their family. The games that are played should be ones that strengthen love, strengthen the bond, and that increase the family's real treasure, which is the affection they have for each other. Because music bypasses words, it can also bring people together. I have seen the unhappy atmosphere of a car ride quickly change when a Rafi tape was played. And one does not have to be proficient to play musical instruments oneself. If your purpose is love and not a conflicted sense of first having to meet some unclear standard, you can have great fun with a kazoo, harmonica, drum, or just blowing into bottles. There is also drawing, painting, sculpting, and a hundred other arts and disciplines. The aim of all these activities is simplicity and happiness, not artistic invention. So many of us are afraid of trying our own ideas because we don't believe they are creative enough. We carry with us a hampering mental image of how the activity should look, and we either do nothing or do it in conflict. It is always better to try than to remain stymied because of fear.

As children age, they usually have homework and other activities that occupy much of their time, and it is important to recognize and respect this rather than insisting that togetherness must continue to look the same. Needs change, and flexibility and understanding are crucial. In all things, hope and try, try and hope. If all our relationships, the chance encounter, the short-term, the lifelong, could somehow be stripped of both dread and anticipation, and if we could look at other people as opportunities to be at peace, then this anciently agitated aspect of the world could recede into the ordinary and once again be a normal and happy part of life. There is no real reason why this can't occur. All it requires on our part is awareness: awareness of how we make the mistakes in the first place, of how we set ourselves up for pain through our expectations and see them through with our need to be right. Once we begin recognizing the attitudes and approaches that undermine any chance we have of being at peace while in the presence of another body, we will naturally and effortlessly discard them. Thus, it is so very important that we remain hopeful and encouraged. Relationships don't have to be a whirlwind that constantly lifts us up and casts us down. Yet, we have gotten ourselves into some unfortunate mental habits that are preventing remedy. Therefore, work hard, for it is happy work. Do not lie down before the world's insanity on the subject of relationship. Do not be trampled by your passing moods and tiny emotions. A deep serenity is still attainable. Immerse yourself in gentleness. The world cannot withstand your love.

Chapter 18. Wrap-up. Happiness is not noisy. It is not a special time set aside, a party, a happy hour, an event that stands out above other events. Happiness is not even a thing to do. It may be possible to schedule excitement, but it's not possible to schedule genuine happiness. As we have all seen, pre-planned forays into fun sometimes end up making real happiness more difficult to come by. Happiness is not some fantasy that comes from a song or a movie. Because of its harmlessness, happiness is incapable of favoritism, nor is it a state that can be compared. It is not enough to know that there are those who suffer more than we do. Happiness is not in the jungle, but in the clear, quiet stream that runs through it. We need neither wits, nor cleverness, nor insensitivity, nor anger to get our share of it. In fact, we need very little. If you adhere to the handful of principles discussed in this book, you will unquestionably come to know a reliable and growing happiness. There is not a great deal to learn. Your attainment rests far more in your readiness to make an effort than in the elegance of your approach. Although the world believes that mistakes have great importance and should be recalled and mulled over for significance and guilt, and must definitely be used to hammer oneself into a better person, the truth is that mistakes are not important. Starting over is important. A faulty approach must first be recognized, then discarded. When we continue dwelling on weakness, we are not practicing strength. The components of happiness are quite simple: Happiness is gentleness, peace, concentration, simplicity, forgiveness, humor, fearlessness, trust, and now. In its true form, each quality includes all the rest, for happiness is whole, and one feels whole when genuinely happy.

Simplicity. Simplicity is a characteristic that can't be judged by appearances. It is a stability, a settledness, a straightforwardness, a purity of the mind that is often expressed in a simpler lifestyle, a simpler diet, a more orderly routine, a more intelligent use of time, less clutter, less financial chaos, fewer involvements. In other words, less world, more peace. These are common effects, but there are no rules, no strictures, no external measurements of one's mastery of simplicity. It is possible to be quite wealthy and still be simple. One's house may be larger than ordinary. One's business activity is more widespread. Likewise, one can own nothing and do little and be thoroughly mixed up and disjoined. Simplicity can find pleasure in unexpected and overlooked places, such as one's family and job. Let's say you're a man and that you hold the ordinary male ego position of believing that somehow you should not be saddled with childcare. Your wife, say, is sick, and suddenly you find yourself alone with the baby. Being a man, you immediately engage in a project that's not necessary at that moment. Whereas, if you pause, your heart will counsel you to drop everything and concentrate on the essential: caring for your child. Seeing this, perhaps you plop down in a chair and just hold the baby. And if that makes you happy, and the baby happy, it is enough. For most people, preparing for bed and getting ready in the morning are difficult times. Yet they will entertain almost any idea that could add further complications. Whether it is one of those times or some other recurring distress, remember that happiness is always a possibility. During your moments of difficulty, help yourself by doing less, by thinking less, by relating gently, by being one thing. Leave the world undisturbed. Simply be simple. There is nothing more to happiness than this.

It's as if a cult has formed around the concept of being present, being centered, being mindful. Those who do not speak in present tense terms or eschew gathering nuts for the winter are considered spiritually backward. Allowing one's mind to be at ease now instead of later never entails self-conscious mannerisms or a practiced vocabulary. It certainly doesn't imply that we should not provide for our future needs or those of our family. The universe does not reward you with money because you have the right beliefs. So don't quit your job, cancel your insurance, or let bills slip in the name of trusting the present. All this will do is make you needlessly anxious and can even result in your abandoning in disgust a gentle approach to life. Possibly the primary mistake we make that keeps us from the present is that we expect too much of a memory or an anticipation. We can offer ourselves little more than tension when we pursue a time that is absent. The present is not somehow more virtuous. It's just that this instant is the only time we have the opportunity to be happy. So why waste it? We can't have fun thinking outside the present without our reveries soon deteriorating. These thoughts have meaning only as comparisons and must always continue into their opposites. The mind can't be controlled when off in unreal realms. No way exists to be happy this afternoon, this evening, after the divorce, after finals, after the loan goes through. The mind can never fool itself for very long that the uncertain is certain. It constantly revises its version of later in a sad attempt to arrive at one that will come to rest and satisfy. There is no real harm in this, but the present has more potential. No better time exists than now, and the hope that there might be a better time has cost us many opportunities to be happy. Let the present remain with you and spread out its calm blanket of acceptance at your feet. In the present, you are free. Leave behind all that is behind and know the lightness, the happiness that practicing the present can bring. Never make the mistake of fighting to stay in the present. There is no code of thoughts to think. If your mind feels restricted and rigid, it is not practicing happiness. So allow the day to come to you. Let each event arrive in its own time. Do not try to override the moment, to judge the moment, and somehow get beyond it. Now is no more than an absence of fear. The literal content of the ideas we think must always involve some aspect of the future or past. Remaining in the present means staying within a circle.

of peace, not thinking present tense thoughts. We simply think from peace and from ease. We don't make silly rules about good and bad subjects. Tension is the clue that our heart has shifted, that we are no longer interested in thinking in a peaceful way.

What other time but now can touch the heart and bring rest to the mind? When else is there the chance to forgive and join another in love? Be where you are. Love the ones you are with. Enjoy the moment you are given. Bless the life you have. There is nothing more to happiness than this.

Gentleness. Gentleness is not a physical protector. It is a mode of thinking. Only the mind can poison the day. The day can't poison the mind. A truly gentle mind will remain happy even under difficult circumstances. But if gentleness is interpreted as meaning that we have created an atmosphere in which we are immune to being hurt, this is not gentleness but self-delusion.

What logic is there in going into a rough neighborhood to demonstrate that we are gentle? Nor does practicing gentleness imply that we should continue in a situation in which we are being cheated, or that we should finish going through our shopping list in a store whose employees are mean-spirited. If we value our state of mind, we take the necessary steps to protect it. Obviously, this doesn't include saying things that are likely to be misunderstood or doing what will be taken the wrong way. The reason we frequently do more harm than good is that we have not stopped to see what the other person actually wants. Gentle people are also thoughtful of themselves and do not make offers that are unnecessary.

Gentleness can take up any subject without harming it, without wishing it harm. It sees no harm in a face, a word, a mannerism, a stance, an opinion. It does not condemn weakness or fear anger. It neither hides from the world nor kicks against it. It is adaptable. It makes allowances. It understands. It has nothing to prove. Thus it remains itself, and there is nothing more to happiness than this.

Peace or freedom from conflict is the core of happiness. In learning to watch our sense of peace, we avoid unhappiness. All forms of misery are heralded by a frame of mind that must become immediately recognizable, if we are to gain mastery and happiness. If you are not clear about what you are getting ready to do or say, you are on the verge of scattering your thoughts and throwing away your peace. Mental conflict is not all that hard to recognize. We are just grossly out of practice.

Peace is the willingness not to rush. You can always tell an ego impulse by the little sense of urgency you will feel. Do it quickly before it's too late. Too late for what? In your rush to be unhappy? Notice how vague and confused you are about the reasons for not pausing and becoming Hurry or there will be consequences. But what consequences? Do not be afraid to stop and examine this argument. Our scared little ego places great value on not wasting time, on being fast on the quick opinion on the immediate retort. So remind yourself that a moment's stopping is not a waste. Practice being slow. Slow to react, slow to anger, slow to judge, slow to have an opinion.

Appearances are not as important as our mind. We wouldn't think of leaving the house with our hair and clothes in disarray. Yet we are quite consistent in disregarding our mental state. We believe that only what can be seen has value. And since our thoughts are out of sight, they signify very little. Provided our life appears well-ordered, they may ramble in any direction, and so long as they remain hidden from others, they can do us no harm. This is a core belief around which unhappiness spins. We can't repeat the following idea too often. Appearances don't matter. Only my mind matters. For if our mind is in a state of peace, we will deal with appearances quite well. Take the time to look in your heart and be clear. Practice doing each thing in peace. Walk through life being whole. Make your mind your clear, whole, peaceful home. Do not be afraid to admit to yourself how important your mind is to you, and do not be afraid to act this out by pausing as often as needed. The time has come to be very direct. Do you want to be happy? Then you want to have peace. There is nothing more to happiness than this.

Anger and judgment can sometimes poison circumstances instantly, sometimes slowly. But whether their first effects are controlled or unrepressed, they're never wholly eliminated from the system through some alchemy of time. In fact, people tend to become more narrow and bitter the older they get. The buildup occurs because the validity of the judging faculty is never questioned. Grievances are swept into corners of the mind, and gradually there is no room to think, no room for light, no room for fun. Now each judgment becomes part of our identity, a point of pride, and we don't like having them questioned.

Forgiveness is the alternative. But forgiveness does not mean releasing all criminals from prison or spending more time with someone who pushes our buttons. Forgiveness is a thought, not a behavior. It is an inner expression of self-respect and integrity. The grounds for forgiving are simple. Grievances are unworthy of you. As we go through the day, it's as if at some point we are shot with a poisoned arrow, and although not recognized at the time, the deterioration begins. Something happens, we interpret it and this little picture carried in the mind begins releasing its toxins. Soon we are reacting badly to almost everything, and we don't know why. It just seems that things are not going well, even though on other occasions we have been able to glide through far more than this. Form the habit of scanning your mind, not second guessing your motives, but staying aware of what your ego, your fear of happiness, is up to. The thoughts that arrest the mind must be recognized before the mind can be set free.

Your own ego can become like the neighbor's dog you have agreed to take for a walk. Your function is to keep it moving along and not let it stop and sniff. When it gets too interested, it gets in trouble. And it is when your ego stops to dwell on some wrong, some unfairness, some slight, that you will feel injured. How many remarks were inoffensive until we thought about them? How many mistakes failed to delay us until we turned them into sins? To forgive means no more than to continue walking toward your goal. If you see that some picture of an earlier event is poisoning you, do not try to dishonestly change the picture, for you will think you are trying to alter reality. Merely look closely at it and let it go. Forgive but don't wonder how you must now act. Forgive but don't try to convince another to forgive. Forgive, but don't hold yourself superior because you have done so. Simply forgive. Wrap your forgiveness around you like a cloak of light, an armor that protects your happiness but closes no one out. Forgiveness is not a "the devil can take you" attitude; it is a clear shield of love that lets the person in but does not let in judgments that betray the person. The armor you wear is your goodwill. Put it on every day and the arrow of circumstance will not penetrate. This will be so because you will not send the arrow back, nor will you take it with you. You will think nothing of it, and there is nothing more to happiness than this.

Humor. A laugh is the most beautiful sound on earth. As it rings in one heart, it resonates in others, and it always has the effect of helping people feel closer, feel understood and appreciated. It is like a little shower of love, a bubble of happiness that can't help popping. It rises out of peace, passes through an ease of manner, and bursts forth naturally. A gentle nature offers no resistance to humor because it sees innocence in the world and feels no need to hold back. True humor is a continual welling up of happiness that very often children have. You can frequently see it just behind their eyes, waiting for the flimsiest of excuses to overflow. When Jordan was three, he made up jokes. He evidently thought that any sentence beginning with "knock-knock" or "why did blank cross the road" was bound to be funny. Although his jokes came out making no sense whatsoever, everyone laughed because he was so delighted and happy telling them. Obviously humor is not merely stories, retorts, and being witty, and it is seldom found in kidding and questions. It can be pure and abundant without ever taking the conventional forms. The ego's version of humor requires that you understand what is meant and agree by laughing; you and those who don't laugh are humorless. Clearly, that is just another way of comparing and judging. True humor is not a mere sound in the throat, and it never shocks or jolts or makes people feel singled out and tense. Where's the fun in that? Very often we lose our humor as the years pass and the problems mount. Our little jokes are increasingly based on separateness and are sophisticated and bitter. Where did the child go? It got lost in fear and seriousness. What the ego can't grasp is that happiness is not frivolous. Happiness is serious. Once we somehow knew not to let things become so real. The world danced before us because we looked at it through dancing eyes. This is still possible. We are not going to change the world. And does anyone really want to be that arrogant? Isn't it enough to help those we can help? Why do so many adults smile when a child, any child, walks into a room? Of course there are many who do not, but perhaps the ones who do have not completely forgotten a child's mind, the good, healthy way a child often feels and reacts. So be a little funny, a little relaxed, a little bit off guard. Sink back into your inherent pleasantness and gaze kindly at the world. The world is indeed a funny place. It is a Marx Brothers movie in which nothing can go right. So kick off your shoes, tip back your chair, and enjoy the absurdity of it all. Become a little child. There is nothing more to happiness than this.

Fearlessness. Fear is one of the great depressors of happiness. The fearful part of our mind believes that happiness is a sign of weakness and it is strongly drawn to every witness of this view. This is what, for example, creates the addictive quality of the news. We lust to know the worst of everyone, of every day. We feed on fear. Certainly there is nothing sinister about articles on the famous, news briefs on crimes and disasters, or local stories about the winning streak of the local basketball team. Most reports, reviews, and even gossip columns are well meant, and many of these attempts to inform do no more harm than waste time, but you cannot realistically expect your mind to function on a level higher than the level of ideas you continuously feed it. If you pepper your conversations with stories of fear and loss, if you memorize every negative statistic that comes your way, if you join every bandwagon against the newest bad guys, naturally you will be an anxious and depressed person, no matter how spicy a personality you contrive. Of course the world is a mess. Why does this fact require your constant vigilance? In your heart you yearn to be at least a small answer to the world's great sadness, and you know that to do little more than dwell on other people's weaknesses is not fulfilling that yearning. A fearless mind heals because it gives hope. Without a word spoken or withheld, it encourages and calms. Certainly you lock up and buckle up and take your insurance umbrella if those gestures help your mind to be less anxious. Unquestionably, you take steps to protect your children, your pets and the well-being of your own body. Fearlessness is not some silly pretense of being mystically immune to worldly dangers. It is uninterested in appearing fearless because it values so deeply the true state.

What I refer to in this book as our heart could also be called our deeper self. For that is how it feels, more fundamental, more collected, more rooted, more sure. Yet it slips into our chaotic mental courtroom without respectable credentials, for it refuses to promise results in worldly terms to substantiate its claim for a hearing. It merely whispers, "Do that thing you can do most peacefully, and do it easily and happily." Notice how our minds have been trained to reject such simple-minded advice. Where are the endless questions of duty and responsibility? Where are the thousand clashing lessons from the past? Perhaps, for just a moment, we know the thing we could do most peacefully. But what can we recall that shows this particular course of action rewarding? And what can we anticipate that makes it safe? Very possibly, nothing at all. So what will we trust? It is a good thing to begin noticing the gentle intrusion of "I want to" into the usual merry-go-round of "I really wonder if I should, because this could happen if I do, yet if I don't, there just might be this other consequence that would be worse." Rather than try to answer the impossible question, "What will result?" and choosing a course that merely avoids our greatest fear, we have the alternative of doing what we want to do. There is no anxiety in "I want to," provided the desire is seen in peace, comes from peace, and is acted on in peace. Therefore, walk gently and walk in peace. Step into yourself and walk without fear. There is nothing more to happiness than this.

Concentration. What we look at is what we experience. In the world, we always gaze upon our quality of mind projected out. With every thought, we are either judgmental or happy. Each thought is a focus, and it sees a world bathed in darkness or light. Of course, for most of us, concentration is already so shattered that much of the day is a blur of gray and holds little meaning. When John was four, I took him and his friend Luke into a cave near our house in Patagonia, Arizona. Neither of them thought the mice scurrying on the walls of particular interest. I found them rather cute, with their big ears and fuzzy winter coats, but was hurried along to other things. When I passed up a sort of smelly, sticky mineral goo that was oozing from the wall, the boys stopped and poked and sniffed and animatedly discussed its meaning. They did not consult me. Whose judgment was correct? Which is better, little and cute or smelly and sticky? We look at thoughts, not at things. The most we can say is that we are true to our personal past. Yet, is that all there is to be true to? The way bloviators on TV argue over what is a big or minor event, you would think the answer was yes. There is a level of concentration that is outside of our individual histories. It is found in our ability to see with and through happiness. Happiness is always a possibility, because the part of the mind that sees happily is capable of acceptance, and happiness that endures is also possible because the mind can decide to see this way permanently. However, seeing no evil is not concentration, since the decision of what is evil goes unquestioned. I know a man who used to turn his eyes to the other side of the street or cross over when he saw an attractive woman approaching. Maybe such a practice could simplify life for someone, but in his case it was done purely out of fear. Yet who can help noticing what the world marks as beautiful, or ugly, or horrible, or any other quality it teaches is worthy of attention? Concentration is not putting on blinders. Rather, we notice in a new way. We notice from our happiness. You can behold gentleness and peace and innocence in the world provided you understand that they come from you. A way must be found to pour forth the beauty of the soul. When your gaze is on the present and your eyes laugh, you shine on the world you see and the light of your heart goes before you. This is possible because you are something more than a body. Be single-minded. Be purposeful. Be focused. Know who you are and what you want. Formulate your purpose into words, etch it on your heart, repeat it in your mind, and above all, live it and see it. The truth is true. Happiness is better than misery. Therefore concentrate on happiness. Decide, "Today I will be happy," and it will be so. There is nothing more to happiness than this.

Trust. We take our bodies to nutritionists, our minds to therapists, our children to schools, and our relationships to magazines. We are so used to thinking that any possible good must come from an outside source that we don't consider the alternative. There is something within us that knows. The ego takes self-trust and turns it into ego trust. To honor this self, we are called upon to respect our irritation and selfishness, as if they were our essence. We do know the wisdom of our heart. We have felt it. It's just that you and I get confused so often. We are told to doubt and we doubt. This is why our inner self appears to need developing, an absurd concept when you consider it, that we must somehow become more ourselves. But it does feel that way. So let us proceed slowly but directly. Let us try ourselves out a little at a time until we are finally found worthy in our own eyes. But today, begin trusting your own sense of happiness, of what makes you happy and what does not. Let it spread to your diet, your clothes, your relationships, your spiritual yearnings. Let it infuse your spending and saving, your health and your habitat. Sit down often and know your own heart. There is clearly a lot of weeding out to do, so many silly assumptions about what is exciting and desirable that you and I have falsely believed. So if a little experimenting and culling are required, that is a small sacrifice indeed. All it implies is that we might make some mistakes. We will try something we thought we wanted, only to uncover a more profound desire. Let the roots of your knowing deepen and expand. Water them with your patience and your clear purpose. Where is the shame in admitting that we have not yet arrived? Let the world rant about its absolute rightness. Then let us respectfully return to our heart for the quiet answer. Let peace be your friend. Take its hand often. Yield to its soft nudges, its broad and gentle preferences. Only the peace of your own heart can be relied on as completely as this. Practice trusting and you will have the grounds for trust. Practice yourself and you will know a self that touches others in true helpfulness. Practice your heart and you will be happy. There is nothing more to happiness than this.

And so, with this little wrapping-up chapter, our conversation ends, but not our joint effort and our mutual goal. We walk together, as do all those who have laid strife aside and set their eyes on love. This is the other way to pass through the world. It requires no special concept, no excluding vocabulary, no particular beliefs, only enough hope in the possibility of love and peace to pursue them in one's family, one's job, on the streets, in the stores. Just a little willingness to try to be the kind of person we want to be: one who takes others as they are, who helps when a way to help is clear, who sees innocence in mistakes. Let us then journey together. The distance to the heart is short indeed. Where else could it be but where you are? It is your right to be happy. This is what you were made for. And if you will not resist, happiness will find a way to pour from your heart and fill your days. Simply keep a place within you where it is welcomed, and happiness will come and abide with you forever.

About the Author

Hugh Prather was the author of 16 books, including Spiritual Notes to Myself, Love and Courage, The Little Book of Letting Go, How to Live in the World and Still Be Happy, and Shining Through. As a minister and radio talk show host, he counseled couples, singles, teenagers, and families in crisis. He passed away on November 15, 2010.

This is Derek Shetterly. We hope you've enjoyed How to Live in the World and Still Be Happy.

How to Live in the World and Still Be Happy by Hugh Prather, copyright 2021 by Hugh Prather, published in arrangement with Mango Media, Incorporated. Audio Production Copyright 2023 by Scribd Audio. This program was produced by Be Audio Limited. All rights reserved.