A Different Kind of Readiness
For a Man Considering the Practice of Peace
Geoffrey
It is not a list of accomplishments to prove worth, but a set of inward questions — small apertures through which honesty and readiness reveal themselves. These are not questions posed by a guide, but a dialogue with oneself.
“This self-reflection is the first quiet act of courage.”
The journey begins not with action, but with attention — a move beyond the transactional habits of self-improvement into the territory of genuine self-discovery.
What Do You Hope to Gain?
Ask what you expect from this practice — and what you might fear as a “waste of time.” Peace may not arrive in a predictable or tangible form.
The process asks for trust: a release of the familiar reward-system that governs so much of life. For a man used to measuring success by external markers, this can be confronting.
“The practice values an invisible transformation — a shift in the inner landscape rather than the outer status.”
What Has Come Before?
The past casts a long shadow. Reflect on your history with other methods of self-work — meditation, therapy, coaching. What draws you here? Is it curiosity, exhaustion, or a genuine pull toward something different?
Acknowledging any lingering scepticism allows you to begin cleanly, without dragging the failures of other systems behind you.
How Do You Respond to Losing Control?
The inner life of a man — often a tight composition of control and stoicism — will be gently tested.
When have you felt a loss of control, and how did you respond? The Practice of Peace asks you to loosen those reins and to trust an inner process that will not always be logical, linear, or predictable.
How Do You Meet Vulnerability?
This is not an interrogation but an observation. How do you respond when emotion rises — your own or another’s?
To meet vulnerability is not to dramatise it but to let it exist without defence. This honest appraisal of your emotional landscape is the quiet threshold of the work.
What Is Your Relationship with the Body?
The body tells its own story.
Given the practice’s emphasis on non-sexual touch and presence, consider how you inhabit your physical form.
Do you see it as a tool, an instrument of performance, or a vessel of experience?
“To feel without purpose is to rediscover embodiment.”
This contemplation prepares you for a more integrated awareness — a reconnection with the body as the ground of peace, not the obstacle to it.
Where Does Your Integrity Live?
Reflect on when you last did quiet work done well and without fuss. What did it teach you?
This question honours the core value that aligns with the practice itself: dignity in simplicity, purpose without display.
It is a reminder that the qualities this work seeks are already present within you, waiting to be met.
Are You Ready?
At last, ask the question that contains all others:
“Am I ready to meet this practice with my full, unfiltered presence?”
This readiness is not about perfection, achievement, or bravery. It is about stepping beyond the masks of performance and entering the quiet, courageous space where peace begins to recognise itself.
Reading your questions felt like an invitation, not an interrogation. I’ve spent my life giving the right answers, but for the first time, the honest ones are the only ones that matter. I’m not ready because I’ve fixed everything, but because I’m ready to stop pretending I can.