WAY OF THE PEACEFUL WARRIOR: A Book That Changes Lives by Dan Millman
Location 865:
"You think too much!" "I was just going to tell you that I’m really willing to change. That’s one thing about me; I’ve always been open to change." "That," said Socrates, "is one of your biggest illusions. You’ve been willing to change clothes, hairstyles, women, apartments, and jobs. You are all too willing to change anything except yourself, but change you will. Either I help you open your eyes or time will, but time is not always gentle," he said ominously. "Take your choice. But first realize that you’re in prison — then we can plot your escape."
Updated: Jan 09, 2021
I walked up University, then along Shattuck, passing through the streets like a happy phantom, the Buddha’s ghost. I wanted to whisper in people’s ears, "Wake up! Wake up! Soon the person you believe you are will die — so now, wake up and be content with this knowledge: There is no need to search; achievement leads to nowhere. It makes no difference at all, so just be happy now! Love is the only reality of the world, because it is all One, you see. And the only laws are paradox, humor, and change. There is no problem, never was, and never will be. Release your struggle, let go of your mind, throw away your concerns, and relax into the world. No need to resist life; just do your best. Open your eyes and see that you are far more than you imagine. You are the world, you are the universe; you are yourself and everyone else, too! It’s all the marvelous Play of God. Wake up, regain your humor. Don’t worry, you are already free!"
Updated: Feb 14, 2021
"Feelings change, Dan. Sometimes sorrow, sometimes joy. But beneath it all remember the innate perfection of your life unfolding. That is the secret of unreasonable happiness."
Updated: Feb 21, 2022
Warriors, warriors we call ourselves. We fight for splendid virtue, for high endeavor, for sublime wisdom, therefore we call ourselves warriors. — Aunguttara Nikaya
That did it. "Look, I can’t waste my time here any longer. I need to get some sleep." I put the carburetor down and got ready to leave. "How do you know you haven’t been asleep your whole life? How do you know you’re not asleep right now?" he said, watching me intently.
"The world out there," he said, waving his arm across the horizon, "is a school, Dan. Life is the only real teacher. It offers many experiences, and if experience alone brought wisdom and fulfillment, then elderly people would all be happy, enlightened masters. But the lessons of experience are hidden. I can help you learn from experience to see the world clearly, and clarity is something you desperately need right now. You know this is true, but your mind rebels; you haven’t yet turned knowledge into wisdom."
"Use whatever knowledge you have but see its limitations. Knowledge alone does not suffice; it has no heart. No amount of knowledge will nourish or sustain your spirit; it can never bring you ultimate happiness or peace. Life requires more than knowledge; it requires intense feeling and constant energy. Life demands right action if knowledge is to come alive." "I know that, Soc." "That’s your problem — you know but you don’t act. You’re no warrior."
"I met him on a construction site in the Midwest. When the lunch whistle blew, all the workers would sit down together to eat. And every day, Sam would open his lunch pail and start to complain. "‘Son of a gun!’ he’d cry, ‘not peanut butter and jelly sandwiches again. I hate peanut butter and jelly!’ "He whined about his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches day after day after day until one of the guys on the work crew finally said, ‘Fer crissakes, Sam, if you hate peanut butter and jelly so much, why don’t you just tell yer old’ lady to make you something different?’ "‘What do you mean, my ol’ lady?’ Sam replied. ‘I’m not married. I make my own sandwiches.’" Socrates paused, then added, "We all make our own sandwiches."
The world was peopled with minds, whirling faster than any wind, in search of distraction and escape from the predicament of change, the dilemma of life and death — seeking purpose, security, enjoyment, trying to make sense of the mystery. Everyone everywhere lived a confused, bitter search. Reality never matched their dreams; happiness was just around the corner — a corner they never turned. And the source of it all was the human mind.
"Facts," he said, tossing aside the tofu he’d been dicing. "Dan, you are suffering; you do not fundamentally enjoy your life. Your entertainments, your playful affairs, and even your gymnastics are temporary ways to distract you from your underlying sense of fear." "Wait a minute, Soc." I was irritated. "Are you saying that gymnastics and sex and movies are bad?" "Of course not. But for you they’re addictions, not enjoyments. You use them to distract you from your chaotic inner life — the parade of regrets, anxieties, and fantasies you call your mind." "Wait, Socrates. Those aren’t facts." "Yes, they are, and they are entirely verifiable, even though you don’t see it yet. In your habitual quest for achievement and entertainment, you avoid the fundamental source of your suffering." He paused. "That was not something you really wanted to hear, was it?"
"If you don’t get what you want, you suffer; if you get what you don’t want, you suffer; even when you get exactly what you want, you still suffer because you can’t hold on to it forever. Your mind is your predicament. It wants to be free of change, free of pain, free of the obligations of life and death. But change is a law, and no amount of pretending will alter that reality."
"Life is not suffering; it’s just that you will suffer it, rather than enjoy it, until you let go of your mind’s attachments and just go for the ride freely, no matter what happens."
"‘Mind’ is an illusory reflection of cerebral fidgeting. It comprises all the random, uncontrolled thoughts that bubble into awareness from the subconscious. Consciousness is not mind; awareness is not mind; attention is not mind. Mind is an obstruction, an aggravation. It is a kind of evolutionary mistake in the human being, a primal weakness in the human experiment. I have no use for the mind."
"First," he said, munching on some lettuce, "neither your disappointment nor your anger was caused by the rain." My mouth was too full of potato salad for me to protest. Socrates continued, regally waving a carrot slice at me. "The rain was a perfectly lawful display of nature. Your ‘upset’ at the ruined picnic and your ‘happiness’ when the sun reappeared were the product of your thoughts. They had nothing to do with the actual events. Haven’t you been ‘unhappy’ at celebrations for example? It is obvious then that your mind, not other people or your surroundings, is the source of your moods. That is the first lesson." Swallowing his potato salad, Soc said, "The second lesson comes from observing how you became even more angry when you noticed that I wasn’t upset in the least. You began to see yourself compared to a warrior — two warriors, if you please." He grinned at Joy. "You didn’t like that, did you, Dan? It might have implied a change was necessary."
Socrates and Joy came back to the blanket. Socrates started jumping up and down, mimicking my earlier behavior. "Damn rain!" he yelled. "There goes our picnic!" He stomped back and forth, then stopped in mid-stomp and winked at me, grinning mischievously. Then he dove onto his belly in a puddle of wet leaves and pretended to be swimming. Joy started singing, or laughing — I couldn’t tell which. I just let go then and started rolling around with them in the wet leaves, wrestling with Joy. I particularly enjoyed that part, and I think she did, too. We ran and danced wildly until it was time to leave. Joy romped like a playful puppy, yet with all the qualities of a woman warrior. I was sinking fast.
"OK, Don, I guess it’s your life. Anyway, 99 percent of the people in the world kill themselves." "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he said, an edge of life coming back into his voice. He started gripping the wall more tightly. "Well, I’ll tell you. The way most people live kills them — you know what I mean? They may take thirty or forty years to kill themselves by smoking or drinking or stress or overeating, but they kill themselves just the same."
Just so, stressful thoughts reflect a conflict with reality. Stress happens when the mind resists what is."
"A similar leap of awareness will be required of you. When you understand the source clearly, you’ll see that the ripples of your mind have nothing to do with you; you’ll just watch them, without attachment, no longer compelled to overreact every time a pebble drops. You will be free of the world’s turbulence as soon as you stop taking your thoughts so seriously. Remember — when you are in trouble, let go of your thoughts to see through your mind!"
"Meditation consists of two simultaneous processes: One is insight — paying attention to what is arising. The other is surrender — letting go of attachment to arising thoughts. This is how you cut free of the mind."
We ate. I stabbed at my vegetables with a fork; he picked up each small bite with wooden chopsticks, breathing quietly as he chewed. He never picked up another bite until he was completely done with the first, as if each bite was a small meal in itself.
"Here is the bottom line," Socrates said, in a voice that firmly held my attention. "You still believe that you are your thoughts and defend them as if they were treasures."
Updated: Feb 23, 2022
"That’s exactly what it is, Dan — a thought — no more real than the shadow of a shadow. Consciousness is not in the body; the body is in Consciousness. And you are that Consciousness — not the phantom mind that troubles you so. You are the body, but you are everything else, too. That is what your vision revealed to you. Only the mind resists change. When you relax mindless into the body, you are happy and content and free, sensing no separation. Immortality is already yours, but not in the way you imagine or hope for. You have been immortal since before you were born and will be long after the body dissolves. The body is Consciousness; never born; never dies; only changes. The mind — your ego, personal beliefs, history, and identity — is all that ends at death. And who needs it?" Socrates leaned back into his chair.
"Socrates, if I’m not my thoughts, what am I?" He looked at me as if he’d just finished explaining that one and one are two and I’d then asked, "Yes, but what are one and one?" He reached over to the refrigerator, grasped an onion, and tossed it to me. "Peel it, layer by layer," he demanded. I started peeling. "What do you find?" "Another layer." "Continue." I peeled off a few more layers. "Just more layers, Soc." "Keep going." "There’s nothing left." "There’s something left, all right." "What’s that?" "The universe. Consider that as you walk home."
I stood up to get some water. Socrates asked, "Are you paying close attention to your standing?" "Yeah, sure," I answered, not at all sure that I was. I walked over to the dispenser. "Are you paying close attention to your walking?" he asked. "Yes, I am," I answered, starting to catch on to the game. "Are you paying attention to how your mouth shapes the words you say?" "Well, I guess so," I said, listening to my voice. I was getting flustered. "Are you paying attention to how you think?" he asked. "Socrates, give me a break — I’m doing the best I can!" He leaned toward me. "Your best is apparently not good enough. At least not yet. Your attention must burn. Aimlessly rolling around a gym mat doesn’t develop a champion; sitting with your eyes closed and letting your mind wander doesn’t train your attention. Focus! Do or die!"
"Why should a warrior sit around meditating?" I asked. "I thought the warrior’s way was about action." "Sitting meditation is the beginner’s practice. Eventually, you will learn to meditate in every action. Sitting serves as a ceremony, a time to practice balance, ease, and divine detachment. Master the ritual before you expand the same insight and surrender fully into daily life.
An old man and his son worked a small farm, with only one horse to pull the plow. One day, the horse ran away. "How terrible," sympathized the neighbors. "What bad luck." "Who knows whether it is bad luck or good luck," the farmer replied. A week later, the horse returned from the mountains, leading five wild mares into the barn. "What wonderful luck!" said the neighbors. "Good luck? Bad luck? Who knows?" answered the old man. The next day, the son, trying to tame one of the horses, fell and broke his leg. "How terrible. What bad luck!" "Bad luck? Good luck?" The army came to all the farms to take the young men for war, but the farmer’s son was of no use to them, so he was spared. "Good? Bad?" I smiled sadly, then bit my lip as I was assaulted by another wave of pain. Joy soothed me with her voice. "Everything has a purpose, Danny; it’s for you to make the best use of it."
"A warrior doesn’t seek pain, but if pain comes, he uses it.
"Fear and sorrow inhibit action; anger generates it. When you learn to make proper use of your anger, you can change fear and sorrow to anger, then turn anger to action. That’s the body’s secret of internal alchemy."
"To rid yourself of old patterns, focus all your energy not on struggling with the old, but on building the new." "How can I control my habits if I can’t even seem to control my emotions?" "You don’t need to control emotion," he said. "Emotions are natural, like passing weather. Sometimes it’s fear, sometimes sorrow or anger. Emotions are not the problem. The key is to transform the energy of emotion into constructive action." I got up, took the whistling kettle off the hot plate, and poured the steaming water into our mugs. "Can you give me a specific example, Socrates?" "Spend time with a baby." Smiling, I blew on my tea. "Funny, I never thought of babies as masters of emotions." "When a baby is upset, it expresses itself in banshee wails — pure crying. It doesn’t wonder about whether it should be crying. Babies accept their emotions completely. They let feelings flow, then let them go. In this way, infants are fine teachers. Learn their lessons and you’ll dissolve old habits."
"My diet may at first seem spartan compared to the indulgences you call ‘moderation,’ Dan, but I take great pleasure in what I eat because I’ve developed the capacity to enjoy the simplest foods. And so will you."
"The pleasure from eating, Dan, is more than the taste of the food and the feeling of a full belly. Learn to enjoy the entire process — the hunger beforehand, the careful preparation, setting an attractive table, chewing, breathing, smelling, tasting, swallowing, and the feeling of lightness and energy after the meal. You can even enjoy the full and easy elimination of the food after it’s digested. When you pay attention to all elements of the process, you’ll begin to appreciate simple meals." "The irony of your present eating habits is that while you fear missing a meal, you aren’t fully aware of the meals you do eat."
She gave it to me and I sat down, gazed at the burger, and took a huge bite. Suddenly I realized what I was doing — choosing between Socrates and a cheeseburger. I spit it out, threw it angrily in the trash, and walked out. It was over; I was through being a slave to random impulses. That night marked the beginning of a new glow of self-respect and a feeling of personal power. I knew it would get easier now. Small changes began to add up in my life. Ever since I was a kid, I’d suffered all kinds of minor symptoms, like a runny nose at night when the air cooled, headaches, stomach upsets, and mood swings, all of which I thought were normal and inevitable. Now they had all vanished. I felt a constant sense of lightness and energy that radiated around me. Maybe that accounted for the number of women flirting with me, the little kids and dogs coming up to me and wanting to play. A few of my teammates started asking for advice about personal problems. No longer a small boat in a stormy sea, I started to feel like the Rock of Gibraltar. I told Socrates about these experiences. He nodded. "Your energy level is rising. People, animals, and even things are attracted to energy fields. That’s how it works."
Then, to my amazement, Socrates took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. "Speaking of smoke," he said, "did I ever mention to you that there’s no such thing as a bad habit?" I couldn’t believe my eyes or my ears. This isn’t happening, I told myself. "No, you didn’t, and I’ve gone to great lengths on your recommendation to change my bad habits." "That was to develop your will, you see, and to give your instincts a refresher course. You see, any unconscious, compulsive ritual is a problem. But specific activities — smoking, drinking, taking drugs, eating sweets, or asking silly questions — are both bad and good; every action has its price, and its pleasures. Recognizing both sides, you become realistic and responsible for your actions. And only then can you make the warrior’s free and conscious choice — to do or not to do. "There is a saying: ‘When you sit, sit; when you stand, stand; whatever you do, don’t wobble.’ Once you make your choice, do it with all your spirit. Don’t be like the preacher who thought about praying while making love to his wife, and thought about making love to his wife while praying."
"It’s better to make a mistake with the full force of your being than to timidly avoid mistakes with a trembling spirit. Responsibility means recognizing both pleasure and price, action and consequence, then making a choice." "It sounds so ‘either-or.’ What about moderation?" "Moderation?" He leaped up on the desk, like an evangelist. "Moderation? It’s mediocrity, fear, and confusion in disguise. It’s the devil’s dilemma. It’s neither doing nor not doing. It’s the wobbling compromise that makes no one happy. Moderation is for the bland, the apologetic, for the fencesitters of the world afraid to take a stand. It’s for those afraid to laugh or cry, for those afraid to live or die. Moderation" — he took a deep breath, getting ready for his final condemnation — "is lukewarm tea, the devil’s own brew!"
"Soc, I’ve been battling illusions my whole life, preoccupied with every petty personal problem. I’ve dedicated my life to self-improvement without grasping the one problem that sent me seeking in the first place. While trying to make everything in the world work out for me, I kept getting sucked back into my own mind, always preoccupied with me, me, me. That giant was me — the ego, the little self — who
"There are no ordinary moments!"
"Now let me tell you about satori, a Zen concept. Satori occurs when attention rests in the present moment, when the body is alert, sensitive, relaxed, and the emotions are open and free. Satori is what you experienced when the knife was flying toward you. Satori is the warrior’s state of being." "You know, Soc, I’ve had that feeling many times, especially during competitions. Often I’m concentrating so hard, I don’t even hear the applause." "Yes, that is the experience of satori. Sports, dance, or music, and any other challenging activity can serve as a gateway to satori. You imagine that you love gymnastics, but it’s merely the wrapping for the gift of satori. Your gymnastics requires full attention on your actions. Gymnastics draws you into the moment of truth; your life is on the line. As with a dueling samurai, it’s satori or death."
"Dan," he said, "you’ve achieved a high level of skill. You’re an expert gymnast." "Why thank you, Socrates." "It wasn’t a compliment." He turned to face me more directly. "An expert dedicates his life to his training with the purpose of winning competitions. Someday, you may become a master gymnast. The master dedicates his training to life." "I understand that, Soc. You’ve told me a number... " "I know you understand it. What I am telling you is that you haven’t yet realized it; you don’t yet live it. You persist in gloating over a few new physical skills, then mope around if the training doesn’t go well one day. But when you begin transcendental training, focusing your best efforts, without attachment to outcomes, you will understand the peaceful warrior’s way."
Then it was over. A long-awaited goal was accomplished. Only then did I realize that the applause, the scores and victories were not the same anymore. I had changed so much; my search for victory had finally ended. It was early spring 1968. My college career was drawing to a close. What would follow, I knew not. I felt numb as I said farewell to my team in Arizona and boarded a jet, heading back to Berkeley, and Socrates — and to Linda. I looked aimlessly at the clouds below, drained of ambition. All these years I had been sustained by an illusion — happiness through victory — and now that illusion was burned to ashes. I was no happier, no more fulfilled, for all my achievements. Finally I saw through the clouds. I saw that I had never learned how to enjoy life, only how to achieve. All my life I had been busy seeking happiness, not finding it.
"You ‘fell’ from grace when you began thinking, about — when you became a namer and a knower. It’s not just Adam and Eve, you see, it’s all of us. The birth of the mind is the death of the senses — it’s not that we eat an apple and get a little sexy!" "I wish I could go back," I sighed. "It was so bright, so clear, so beautiful." "What you enjoyed as a child can be yours again. Jesus of Nazareth, one of the Great Warriors, once said that you must become like a little child to enter the Kingdom of Heaven."
Soc pointed to the tropical foliage that towered over us. "As a child, all this would appear before your eyes and ears and touch as if for the first time. But now you’ve learned names and categories for everything: ‘That’s good, that’s bad, that’s a table, that’s a chair, that’s a car, a house, a flower, dog, cat, chicken, man, woman, sunset, ocean, star.’ You’ve become bored with things because they only exist as names to you. The dry concepts of the mind obscure your direct perception." Socrates waved his arm in a sweeping gesture, taking in the palms high above our heads that nearly touched the Plexiglas canopy of the geodesic dome. "You now see everything through a veil of associations about things, projected over a direct, simple awareness. You’ve ‘seen it all before’: it’s like watching a movie for the twentieth time. You see only memories of things, so you become bored, trapped in the mind. This is why you have to ‘lose your mind’ before you can come to your senses."
Updated: Feb 23, 2022
"You, on the other hand," he said, rubbing salt in the wound, "are only vaguely aware of what’s going on inside that bag of skin. Like a balance beam performer just learning a handstand, you’re not yet sensitive enough to detect when you’re out of balance, and you can still ‘fall’ ill. And for all your gymnastics skills, you’ve only developed a gross level of awareness, sufficient to perform certain movement patterns but nothing to write home about." "You sure take the romance out of a triple somersault, Soc." "There is no romance in it; it’s a stunt that requires time and practice to learn. But when you can feel the flow of energies in your body, then you’ll have your ‘romance.’ So keep practicing, Dan. Refine your senses a little more each day; stretch them, as you would in the gym. Finally, your awareness will pierce deeply into your body and into the world. Then you’ll think less and feel more. That way you’ll enjoy even the simplest things in life — no longer addicted to achievement or expensive entertainments. Next time," he laughed, "perhaps we can have a real competition."
"A peaceful warrior has the insight and discipline to choose the simple way — to know the difference between needs and wants. We have few basic needs but endless wants. Full attention to every moment is my pleasure. Attention costs no money; your only investment is training. That’s another advantage of being a warrior, Dan — it’s cheaper! The secret of happiness, you see, is not found in seeking more, but in developing the capacity to enjoy less."
"Understand this above all," he interrupted. "You can do nothing to change the past, and the future will never come exactly as you expect or hope for. There have never been past warriors, nor will there be future ones. The warrior is here, now. Your sorrow, your fear and anger, regret and guilt, your envy and plans and cravings live only in the past, or in the future."
"Yes. You haven’t yet opened your heart fully, to life, to each moment. The peaceful warrior’s way is not about invulnerability, but absolute vulnerability — to the world, to life, and to the Presence you felt. All along I’ve shown you by example that a warrior’s life is not about imagined perfection or victory; it is about love. Love is the warrior’s sword; wherever it cuts, it gives life, not death."
"Better to live until you die," he said. "I am a warrior, so my way is action. I am a teacher, so I teach by example. Some day you may teach others as I have taught you — then you’ll understand that words are not enough; you, too, must teach by example what you’ve realized through experience."
His laughter rang out in my memory. Then I remembered an incident in the station: I had been acting lethargic; Socrates suddenly grabbed me and shook me. "Wake up! If you knew for certain that you had a terminal illness — if you had little time left to live — you would waste precious little of it! Well, I’m telling you, Dan — you do have a terminal illness: It’s called birth. You don’t have more than a few years left. No one does! So be happy now, without reason — or you never will be at all."
As I lay in the sun, I remembered peeling away the last layer of the onion in Soc’s office to see "who I was." I remembered a character in a J. D. Salinger novel, who, upon seeing someone drink a glass of milk, said, "It was like pouring God into God, if you know what I mean."
It was a ragged English translation of spiritual folktales. Flipping through the pages, I came upon a story about enlightenment: "Milarepa had searched everywhere for enlightenment, but could find no answer — until one day, he saw an old man walking slowly down a mountain path, carrying a heavy sack. Immediately, Milarepa sensed that this old man knew the secret he had been desperately seeking for many years. "‘Old man, please tell me what you know. What is enlightenment?’ "The old man smiled at him for a moment, and swung the heavy burden off his shoulders, and stood straight. "‘Yes, I see!’ cried Milarepa. ‘My everlasting gratitude. But please, one question more. What is after enlightenment?’ "Smiling again, the old man picked up the sack once again, slung it over his shoulders, steadied his burden, and continued on his way."
"I have nothing to bring you, Socrates. I’m still lost — no closer to the gate than I was when we first met. I’ve failed you, and life has failed me; life has broken my heart." He was jubilant. "Yes! Your heart has been broken, Dan — broken open to reveal the gate, shining within. It’s the only place you haven’t looked. Open your eyes, buffoon — you’ve almost arrived!"
From the start, I have shown you the way of the peaceful warrior, not the way to the peaceful warrior. As long as you tread the way, you are a warrior. These past eight years you have abandoned your "warriorship" so you could search for it. But the way is now; it always has been." "So what do I do now? Where do I go from here?" "Who cares?" he yelled gleefully. "A fool is ‘happy’ when his cravings are satisfied. A warrior is happy without reason. That’s what makes happiness the ultimate discipline — above all else I have taught you. Happiness is not just something you feel — it is who you are."
Act happy, be happy, without a reason in the world. Then you can love, and do what you will."
I didn’t speak much, but I laughed often, because every time I looked around — at the earth, the sky, the sun, the trees, the lakes, the streams — I realized that it was all Me — that no separation existed at all. All these years Dan Millman had grown up, struggling to "be a somebody." Talk about backward! Dan had been a somebody in a fearful mind and a mortal body.
And so I awoke to reality, free of any meaning or any search. What could there possibly be to search for? All of Soc’s words had come alive with my death. This was the paradox of it all, the humor of it all, and the great change. All searches, all achievements, all goals, were equally enjoyable, and equally unnecessary.
Updated: Feb 25, 2022
And so I awoke to reality, free of any meaning or any search. What could there possibly be to search for? All of Soc’s words had come alive with my death. This was the paradox of it all, the humor of it all, and the great change. All searches, all achievements, all goals, were equally enjoyable, and equally unnecessary. Energy coursed through my body. I overflowed with happiness and burst with laughter; it was the laugh of an unreasonably happy man.
Updated: Oct 21, 2022
"Soc, I’ve been battling illusions my whole life, preoccupied with every petty personal problem. I’ve dedicated my life to self-improvement without grasping the one problem that sent me seeking in the first place. While trying to make everything in the world work out for me, I kept getting sucked back into my own mind, always preoccupied with me, me, me. That giant was me — the ego, the little self — who I’ve always believed myself to be. And I cut through it!"
And when satori becomes your everyday reality, we will be equals. Satori is your key to the gate."