We live in a very left-brain-dominant world. 

We put so much focus on quantitative things instead of qualitative ones. We obsess over having the right amount of money, the right possessions, the right-sized family, the right-sized house, everything that society tells us we’re supposed to want.

And we never focus on the really important part, which is the qualitative. How do we spend our money? How are our relationships, not just do we have them, but are they nurturing? That is more important than simply being in a relationship, especially an unhealthy one.

So, when we are always rushing, we are really missing that depth, that richness, that fulfillment in life. We can’t even tell if we’re running away from something or running toward something.

But when we are constantly rushing, not just physically, but mentally, we are frantically checking things on our phone, running around the house, whatever it is that we are doing. Often, this franticness is actually an avoidance of peace and stillness, this moment of truth, the present moment.

The more we focus on the quality of our lives instead of the quantity, the more we really start to live.

It doesn’t matter if we live 100 years and spend the whole time on our phones, or if we perish skydiving in New Zealand on our 80th birthday; we both reach the same destination.

When we treat life like a race, when we keep it in top gear all the time, going at full speed, we run the risk of looking back and realizing that the scorecard of life, that house, that perfect neighborhood, that perfect school, did not bring the joy we expected, or were led to believe it would.

So often, we ruin this perfect moment because we bring past problems into it, or we bring people who have disappointed us, who are not even here, into it.

And when we sit still, that is when those inner demons show their face.

The more we can “fake peace till we make peace,” as I like to say, which is to say, create a peaceful life, and a peaceful mind will follow.

This simply means we create some peace and quiet, some slowing down, something essential. At first, we will resist it. It will be uncomfortable. There will be inner resistance. But we move through it.

When we do, there is a gratitude and a peacefulness that comes effortlessly, because we arrive at a place of pure contentment.

We are at peace with nothing.
We are at peace with our thoughts.
We begin to love our inner voice because it becomes nurturing and supportive.

And so, there is nothing to escape.