Roots Of A Peace Of Practice
Neither Religion Nor Therapy Nor Philosophy
The Practice of Peace is radical not because it is rebellious or shocking, but because it returns to the root—to what radical actually means.
From radix, the Latin for root.
It is radical because it questions the entire premise of how modern men are taught to live:
- that meaning comes from motion,
- that worth is measured in performance,
- that stillness is indulgence,
- that intimacy is dangerous unless sexual,
- that vulnerability is weakness,
- that peace must be earned rather than allowed.
The practice overturns all those assumptions at once. It proposes that nothing needs to be added to make a man whole—only noise needs to be removed.
It’s radical because it refuses every available category: not therapy, not coaching, not religion, not sex, not self-improvement.
Neither Religion Nor Therapy Nor Philosophy
It denies the transactional logic that defines nearly all “helping” professions, and replaces it with presence.
And it is radical because it grants sovereignty back to the individual.
No hierarchy of healer and healed, no teacher and pupil—just two men, learning what peace feels like when no one is trying to fix or perform.
In that way, it is quietly revolutionary: it makes nothing happen, and by doing nothing properly, allows anything to happen.
The Practice of Peace has no theology, no lineage, and no doctrine. It borrows freely from the world’s contemplative traditions, yet it answers to none of them.
It stands outside of religion and psychology alike—not as a rejection of either, but as a recognition that peace cannot be owned by systems that claim to define it.
Not Buddhism, Though It Knows Stillness
The surface resemblance is clear. The quiet attention, the simplicity, the absence of goals—these echo the Buddhist way.
Yet where Buddhism often seeks liberation from desire and escape from the cycle of suffering, this practice does not wish to escape at all.
It seeks instead to turn toward the ordinary, to befriend the body, to experience the ache of being alive without needing to transcend it. If suffering has a lesson, it is that it can be met, not solved.
The Practice of Peace is not a retreat from the world but a re-entry into it, with quieter eyes.
Not Taoism, Though It Moves Like Water
The practice shares Taoism’s instinctive wisdom: that what flows most easily is truest. It honours the unforced rhythm of life, the effortless way of water nourishing all things without striving.
But this practice of peace remains human.
It does not ask for detachment or surrender to the impersonal Tao, but for an intimate re-engagement with one’s own presence—an act of personal stillness, not cosmic absorption.
It is the Tao filtered through human warmth and the imperfect grace of touch.
Not Psychology, Though It Knows the Mind
The Practice of Peace does not diagnose, interpret, or heal according to theory. It has no scales, no disorders, no numbered outcomes. Where modern psychology often seeks to categorise experience, this practice listens to it.
It acknowledges that peace cannot be standardised, and that genuine presence requires equality, not hierarchy.
The guide does not stand as an expert over the man but sits beside him, as one human among others.
If there is a method here, it is conversation. If there is a measure, it is calm.
Not Philosophy, Though It Lives in Thought
The practice engages questions that philosophy often complicates. It values contemplation.
It asks a man to examine his assumptions through stillness rather than through debate—to discover meaning in sensation, gesture, and silence.
Where philosophy builds systems of knowing, this practice lets them fall away until only understanding remains.
An Essence of Peacefulness
This is not an abstraction of life but its reanimation.
It is for those who have read enough theories and are ready to experience what they have only understood.
It stands between traditions and beyond them, rooted in a single, practical premise: that peace does not arrive through belief, but through presence.
Peace does not arrive through belief but through presence.
