Whispering Wyrd

In the past, I made New Year’s resolutions and almost always failed at them. Looking back, it’s clear why… most of them were unrealistic and disconnected from the realities of my life at the time. Eventually, I stopped making resolutions altogether.

This year is different.

This year, I’ve made resolutions I know I can keep because they’re rooted in reality, not ambition. I kept them simple and focused on health, well-being, and how I live each day.

Last year, during benzodiazepine withdrawal, I wasn’t working toward goals or self-improvement. I was in survival mode. Literally taking life one day, sometimes one minute, at a time. It took everything I had just to endure. There was no room for lofty goals beyond one essential task… keep going to survive.

Living through that ordeal brought absolute clarity about what truly matters to me. Family. Health. Spiritual practice. Not status, not wealth, not possessions. Now that I’m clear-headed and free of substances, I understand, more deeply than ever, what makes for a good life.

One of my resolutions this year is to live my faith more fully and more honestly. That commitment was tested recently when I saw Buddhist monks being protested online during their peace walk across the United States. I had to focus and remind myself not to become angry and say bad things to those people saying bad things about the monks and their peace walk.

After more than a year of intense inner work and healing, I’ve come to understand something important… peace is not passive. It’s not a slogan or a banner waved at others. Peace is something we actively cultivate within ourselves so that we don’t add more hostility to an already wounded world.

So I’m reflecting inward. Can I meet disapproval with grace? Can I offer goodwill without expecting it in return? This is my practice now.

This year, I choose to protect my inner peace not by building walls between faiths or people, but by dissolving barriers with kindness. I choose to meet fear with calm, judgment with peace, and division with a quiet heart. I choose to honor the sacred in all sincere paths, even when they differ from my own.

Withdrawal taught me things about myself I never wanted to learn, but am grateful to know. I learned that I have a strength I didn’t realize I had. There were moments when survival was not a metaphor, it was literal. There was only one option and that was to keep going.

Once I reached a certain point, there was no turning back. Returning to the drug risked kindling, and I had already experienced seizures. Giving up was not an option. I had to keep walking forward, one step at a time.

When I say my family and my faith carried me through, it is no exaggeration. I know I couldn’t have done it without either. Because of that, I feel a responsibility now, not just to live in peace, but to offer peace where I can.

For me, that means learning not to fall back into my old, reactionary patterns. When someone offends me or ridicules my beliefs, I’m practicing pausing before responding. Meeting rudeness with rudeness only destroys my own peace and adds to the suffering already present.

There’s a story in the Buddhist tradition where an angry man insults the Buddha, questioning him and calling him names. The Buddha responds calmly by asking, “If you buy a gift for someone and they don’t accept it, to whom does the gift belong?”

The man answers, “It belongs to me, because I bought it.”

The Buddha smiles and says, “Exactly. It is the same with your anger. If you offer it to me and I do not accept it, it remains with you.”

That is one of the teachings I’m practicing now.

I’m clear-headed enough to know that I don’t have to respond to every provocation, online or in person. I can’t change the world, but I can make my small corner of it more peaceful.

Wherever you are, and whatever you’re going through, I wish you good health, steadiness, and peace.

Amituofo
 ~Buck