My prime directive is to err on the side of peace - what does that mean?

To borrow some language from Gene Roddenberry's Star Trek, my "prime directive" at any and all times is to err on the side of peace. I have adopted this concept some years ago, not sure exactly when. I just know that when it popped into my mind, I knew that for me, it fit. In a previous article on this blog (and a few others on my other blog, The Digital Firehose), The hidden voluntarist in me, I have mentioned my prime directive in passing. 

In review of my writing, and my behavior towards others, I have found that for a long time and to varying degrees, I have been an unconscious voluntarist. I know the pain of wanting someone else to do what I want them to do and not see them do it. I know the pain of wanting someone else to change and they don't change. Worse, when they figure out that I want them to do something, that one simple thing, they do the opposite of what I want them to do, to spite me, or for whatever reason that might be. A codependent is someone who touches a hot stove, recoils and wonders aloud, why the stove is hot, instead of asking the question: Why do I insist on touching the stove?

All of that need for control has made me tired, and wanting something more, something different. In the past, my relations with others were untenable for I didn't know truly how to relate to people. Since that realization, I've noticed what makes me tired and wears me out, and have learned to avoid such situations. I have recognized that kind of behavior as an addiction. Like the recovering drunk who knows not to pass by the bar he used to frequent if he truly wants to live, I have learned to avoid those situations. 

I'm not perfect, but every day, I get better, and after years of observation and refinement, I'm probably approaching something of a brown or red belt to draw an analogy and a conservative assessment. I'm competent and am approaching mastery, no longer self-conscious about my effort, but have not quite completely mastered the art of erring on the side of peace.

I believe that for a voluntarist society to work, in fact, for any form of government to work, humans must have the skills and capacities required to treat each other with kindness and respect. I have found a few organizations that have a nice voluntarist feel to them. Alcoholics Anonymous, a 12-step program provides an excellent example. AA is a completely voluntary program. No one tells anyone else what to do. There are no dues. Anyone can join if they identify as an alcoholic, for the early membership realized long ago that they do not get to decide who will live and who will die. AA is now one of the most successful programs for people to learn to stop drinking. Note that I say "learn" because AA teaches the skills of living in peace, and when one is in peace, there is no need to do violence to the mind by drinking without consideration of consequence.

Today, I'd like to elaborate on what this means, this idea that I should err on the side of peace. I'd say first that erring on the side of peace requires mindfulness:

mind·ful·nessˈmīn(d)f(ə)lnəs/noun

1. 1.the quality or state of being conscious or aware of something."their mindfulness of the wider cinematic tradition"
2. 2.a mental state achieved by focusing one's awareness on the present moment, while calmly acknowledging and accepting one's feelings, thoughts, and bodily sensations, used as a therapeutic technique.

Erring on the side of peace, requires accepting everything, exactly as it is. This isn't to say that we should tolerate abuse, this is to say that in order to effect change, we must be willing to see things as they are. When we accept where we are, like on a map, then we can plot a course for change, a course that doesn't require others to change for us. So let us review an example.

When someone I love criticizes me, I have the option to fire back with a sarcastic retort. I have the option to respond in kind with my own criticism. I have the option to walk away. I have tried all of these options myself and found them wanting. I have long since rejected all of them for the reason that when I think through all the times I've tried that, I can recall how I felt after trying each of those options. I didn't like how I felt, so I changed my behavior.

If I fire back with a sarcastic retort, I'm seeking to punish the other person, and when I punish someone else, there is no joy, no sweetness to retribution or revenge. Punishment teaches no skills beyond obedience or rebellion (take your pick). Yes, I have done that and I have made living amends not to do that again. I have learned to accept that the other person, good intentions or not, did not have the skills to respond by taking the higher road. I have learned to say something on the order of, "Thank you. I understand." And I leave it at that.

I have tried firing back with criticism of the other in kind. I kid you not, I have never seen that work. That never feel good. I don't feel good after criticizing someone else. So I let it go. I let the feelings pass. I remind myself to keep my side of the street clean as well as I can and consider the source. And then I do what I can to keep my side of the street clean.

I have tried walking away, too. But this too, leaves everyone involved feeling awful. Just in the last day, I saw someone on Steemit say that attention is the greatest gift anyone could give you. Attention is more valuable than money, or any other thing. To deprive someone I love of attention is perhaps the greatest insult in the heat of an argument. Walking out the door is absolutely the wrong thing to do, unless I lack the capacity to accept things as they are. So I stay in the room and look at the other person, letting the feelings pass, bringing logic back to the fore. 

This is what I mean by mindfulness, to accept things as they are. By letting the feelings pass, I can then engage logic and respond instead of react. What do I do when I respond?

I ask myself a few questions. In considering my response, I ask myself, "Does my response make a demand on the other person to change?" If yes, then I reconsider my response. Asking someone else to change is giving power to someone else, making them responsible for how I feel. 

"Does my response punish him or her?" If so, I reconsider my response. I avoid punishing the other person because I have no idea what trial he or she is suffering. If someone intentionally causes me suffering, they are suffering. People are already suffering enough, so I do whatever I can to avoid antagonizing them and causing more suffering. I remind myself that challenging behavior results from a lack of skills or capacity to do better. Everyone wants to do well, to do better than before. That is my basic assumption with everyone. Motivation on the part of the other is not even a consideration anymore.

"Does my response help to bring down the energy or tension?" If yes, I proceed. I am a firm believer in gentle persuasion. I practice it all the time with my kids, my wife, and anyone else who might find themselves in conflict with me. I have taken a 60 hour course in conflict resolution and the lessons with me are still with me today. To get a taste of what I learned there, check out "Straight From The Heart" by Paul and Layne Cutright for $2 at Barnes and Noble.

I practice these ideas, and the prime directive of erring on the side of peace, in life and online. I do this not because this is how the world is. I do this because this is how I want the world to be. Won't you join me?