Before the shore

The thought of this book came to me during a morning swim in Nago Bay. I was thinking about how much I love The Art of War, and wondering what I might learn by turning my attention to the preservation of peace.

I work with computers and build things. My habits follow me beyond my work. I ask what happens when a promise fails, when two people understand the same words differently, when something entrusted to one pair of hands becomes too important to lose.

These questions led me here. I want to understand how people can disagree without becoming enemies, protect themselves without seeking domination, and share without surrendering their independence.

I love harmony. I also want room for the person who interrupts it with a necessary question. A room in which everyone speaks alike may be a room of friends. It may also be a room in which someone has learned to be afraid.

The peace I seek has room for an unwelcome answer. It allows people to remain different, to change their minds, and sometimes to part. It asks restraint of those who possess power, and offers protection to those whose refusal would otherwise carry no weight.

I have written these passages as things to practise. Some concern the conduct of a single person; others concern arrangements people build together. A household, a workshop, and a community carry different responsibilities. I would examine a principle again before carrying it from one to another.

I do not expect to settle the meaning of peace. I hope to become more useful in its keeping.