The Illusion of the Chase

The Illusion of the Chase

How quietly it begins—
this endless seeking for peace
in the shape of a quieter street,
a cleaner diet,
a job less full of thorns.

“If only I leave this toxic place…”
“If I move to the coast, to the forest,
to where the birds sing and the sirens sleep…”
“If I divorce, if I heal, if I wake with clear eyes again…”
How many ‘if onlys’ must we exhaust
before we see the truth?

Peace is not a destination.
It is not earned by effort
nor granted by perfect circumstances.
Even the monks of old knew,
you could sit in the heart of a temple
and still be at war inside.

Lao Tzu whispered,
“Do you have the patience to wait
until your mud settles and the water is clear?”
The Buddha taught,
“Let go of what is not yours to carry.”

And so I am learning:
peace is not the absence of noise.
It is not what follows healing.
It is not a reward for the disciplined,
nor a prize for the holy.

Peace is the soft exhale
when I say yes to the chaos.
Yes to the illness.
Yes to the body that trembles,
the diagnosis that threatens,
the craving that returns.

Yes to the rising and falling
of all that is fleeting.

It is the still watcher
who remains
as life dances madly on.

Meditation,
my ancient friend,
has taught me to bow
to what I cannot change.
To let moments pass
without chasing, grasping, resisting.

The sages did not seek peace in pills or visions.
They sat.
They watched.
They yielded.

And in that gentle surrender,
they touched the quiet.

Not in some distant tomorrow,
but here.
In the belly of this breath.
In the wild truth of this moment.

So drop the chase.
Drop the idea that peace waits
just one achievement away.
Be still.
Let the world turn.

And let peace find you
in the place it has always lived,
within.