For nearly a decade, I have been adrift in a Sea of Words, documenting a relentless search for truths as a form of unashamed catharsis intended to explain myself to my own mind.
My archive consists of hundreds of posts, recording a transition from the bad-tempered rants of an aging cynic to a state close to ataraxia—an almost undisturbed mental tranquillity.
I have often been asked if this journey has led to any tangible conclusion, and my response is always the same: yes, but you must make the journey for yourself. The proof of the pudding is in the eating.
It does not matter what the Dalai Lama says, nor does it matter what is written in the thousands of “self-help” books that clutter the shelves of the “Wellness Industry”. What matters is whether a practice works to relieve the profound suffering of the human condition.
I can confirm that after sixty five years of being blighted by serious, black depression, I have succeeded in besting the beast.
The Arid Desert of Seeking
I was a “seeker” for over thirty-five years. I looked in every corner for the “Philosopher’s Stone”—the answer to life, the universe, and everything. I studied the Book of Common Prayer for its sublime, calming language, the Buddhist sutras for their powerful remedy, and the works of modern science to see if the “men in white coats” had finally unravelled the mystery of consciousness.
For a long time, I was seduced by the promise of the “silver bullet”. I tried every medically approved drug on offer, from SSRIs to psychedelics, in the hope of finding an instant escape from trauma and misery. I listened to cross-legged Russian windbags and diamante-spectacled gurus who promised a short cut to god and liberation for a fiver.
I discovered that most of these “merchants of dreams” are cynical fakes. They offer “McMindfulness”—a fashion accessory for the busy professional—rather than a genuine path out of the pit. I learned that you cannot buy your way into Nirvana. The answer lies within, and it requires a level of persistence and rigorous self-discipline that few are willing to apply.
The Rigor of the Daily Path
My own success began not with the “blinding flash” of enlightenment, but with a determined, daily commitment to meditation practice. For the past four years, I have followed a routine that would seem to most like living in a closed monastic order.
Each morning begins with at least one hour (often two) of sitting meditation before I even get out of bed. I no longer worry about “technique” or whether I am “getting it right”. I sit in comfort, following my breath and occasionally repeating a simple mantra of my own making.
Through my practice, I have proved to myself that the subconscious can be trained. The damaging “scripts” of worry and rumination that once ran like well-worn tracks through my mind have been overwritten by more beneficent patterns. When I meditate, the world recedes, and I am left (more often than not) in a place of fecund emptiness where all seems well.
The second pillar of my practice is meditative exercise. I perform slow, sloth-like Pilates or Yoga for an hour or two every day. This is not a sweaty marathon but a rhythmic, deliberate stretching that deepens my inner calm. Lying back on my mat, I am often flooded with a sensation of mild ecstasy—what the scientists might call an endocannabinoid high, but what I experience as pure, unadulterated peace.
The Result: Life as a Meditation
Has this practice changed my life? I can say, without any shade or shadow of doubt, that it has. I find that my entire existence has become a meditation. I am no longer a character in a book that has already been written; I have become an autonomous agent capable of authoring my own reality.
This “Proof of the Pudding” is (mostly!) visible in how I greet the world:
- The Absence of Conflict: I have learned to let go of the need to be right. I no longer engage with the “Pigs,” “Salesmen,” and “Trolls” who once irritated me so intensely. I have withdrawn from the “Human Zoo” of politics and business, recognizing it as a zero-sum game of greed and power play.
- A Raised Hedonic Baseline: My default state is now mostly one of calm and acceptance. The Black Dog that pawed at my door for over six decades has more or less disappeared.
- Oneness with the Background: I often feel the sensation of fading into the environment, being absorbed into the beauty of the natural world. Whether I am pruning fruit trees or watching a kestrel hover over the marshes, I often feel a sense of almost mystical unity that requires no god or dogma to explain.
The Simple Rule
We live in Puzzle’s Stable (like the dwarves in Narnia’s Last Battle), surrounded by paradise but unable to see it because we are blinded by our own small vanities and concerns. We treat our planet like a slaughterhouse and our fellow men as competitors to be crushed.
Once you come to know a quiet mind, you realize that the world does not need more entrepreneurs or tech titans or politicians seeking to own the planet. The world needs no crusades or missiles, no endless brutality.
The world needs people who are willing to stop and listen, go inwards. To smell the flowers. Who yearn only for peace and decency.
I have arrived at a final conclusion; my Weltanschauung is complete. Nothing matters except how you treat others. In a seemingly meaningless universe, the only “truth” is the imperative to treat every sentient being with the kindness and decency we would wish for ourselves.
The Book of Common Prayer speaks of the “peace which the world cannot give”. And yet, through the simple act of sitting in silence and reflecting on my own behaviour, peace is exactly what I have found.
If you are standing at the edge of an abyss, you have nothing to lose. Give it a go. The path is long and arduous (or at least it was in my case), but the reward is a window onto the soul that reveals a world of infinite beauty.
Image: Claude: Landscape with the Marriage of Isaac and Rebekah, 1648. The National Gallery, London
