Like most people, I experience a lightness of being when the clocks spring forward and our evenings are no longer shrouded in darkness. After a long, gloomy winter the promise of new life abounds, along with the hope of sunnier, more joyous times ahead. This year, however, a photograph I saw online put a stop to all that.
It was a building in Washington DC. (No, it wasn’t The White House.) The image in question depicted the jumbled-up signage outside the United States Institute for Peace. It was in the process of being dismantled, along with the institute itself, by the so-called U.S. Department of Government Efficiency – DOGE.
A non-partisan, independent organisation funded by the U.S. Congress, USIP’s aim was to prevent and resolve violent conflicts, and to promote post-conflict stability. The Institute was, for me, something of a beacon in the dark night of war-induced suffering that appears to be engulfing the planet, so its dismantling felt symptomatic of much that is currently going awry in the world.
My peace of mind began to slip away. Coming across recent research that claimed humans are more likely to be engaged by a hate-filled conspiracy theory than by a sermon on compassion didn’t help. Algorithms keep us trapped in the echo chambers of our prejudices, and outrage apparently generates engagement.
Is the pursuit of peace a waste of time, I wondered? Can the human race ever renounce violence? For over half my life I’ve been a member of a peace-orientated, hope-fuelled Buddhist organisation. Nevertheless, existential angst was beginning to creep up on me: A feeling of deep anxiety or dread, typically an unfocused one about the human condition or the state of the world in general. I was concerned about both.
I couldn’t kick a sense of hopelessness bordering on despair whenever I thought about those who were suffering desperate poverty or trapped in a terrifying war zone. How to regain my peace of mind? I eventually reminded myself that the word ‘religion’ comes from the Latin religare, which means ‘to bind and connect’. The dismantling of USIP disconnected the possibility of healing and reconciliation. Yet we survive and thrive through our connection with each other, our communities, nature, the world and the universe itself. Interconnection is the key to life. And interconnection is integral to Buddhism.
There was nothing else for it but to turbocharge my Buddhist practice. To be honest, it wasn’t easy at first, but, as always, it paid off. I began reconnecting with positive people and value-creating initiatives in my environment. During this reconnection process I discovered that I was far from alone in my concern over the state of the world. The arrival of Spring hadn’t brought the joys it normally did for others, either. That in itself, weirdly enough, was a cause for renewed hope.
The brain has eighty-five billion neurons and eighty-four billion other cells. Neurons constantly make new synaptic connections, proving that consciousness can be adaptive and flexible. We can change the way we think. Rather than wallowing in despair, I choose to embrace the hope that this dark time is a mere blip in the enduring struggle for peace.
Sure, there is darkness in the world; but there is also enough light to counteract it. The Andromeda and Milky Way galaxies alone consist of 200 billion stars. No longer in a funk, I recalled that old mantra of Gandhi’s: ‘Peace moves at a snail’s pace’, and began to appreciate the bluebells.