During one evening therapy group, the topic of serenity came up for discussion. The comments of some of the group members started me thinking. Perhaps this serenity could be teased into its component parts and described in more detail. In other words, if you had serenity, how would you know? How would you recognize it? How would you get some?

During a break in the group, I jotted down my first thoughts on the self-assigned task of analyzing serenity. Many readers may not appreciate the tortured, analytical thinking of your average psychologist, but the following list, while certainly not offered as anything but personal opinion, may at least serve as a starting point for further discussions.

Detachment

 Serenity is a very personal thing, and to achieve it one must detach from worldly concerns, at least for a little while. Later, perhaps, detached serenity can be carried though the routine of daily living, but at first we have to let go of people, emotions and worldly involvement. In serenity, we let go with love, never in anger or disdain, of course.

Professional people such as a surgeon or a critical care nurse treat many, many patients in crisis during any given time. In order to be good at what they do, they must be objectively detached; they cannot afford to become too emotionally involved with their clients, so they adopt a professional and sometimes distant attitude. This is not necessarily an unfriendly attitude, just one that is not deeply involved emotionally. In any critical task, serenity of this type is essential. We often do our best work when we are emotionally detached from that work. The same thinking may apply to senior members of self-help organizations who, while they may care deeply about all newcomers, cannot let themselves become too emotionally involved in what could very well be a disappointment caused by factors beyond their control.

Whether or not you choose to use detachment, it may be a good tool to practice and to have available in difficult times.

Non-controlling

Serenity suggests that we retire from constant efforts to control events and people. Recognizing our own personal limits on power and control is essential, so we do what we reasonably can, work where our skills can be effective, and hope that what we cannot supply will be available from other sources. A serene person does not try to be all things to all people, and serenity asks that we recognize and admit our limitations. In deep meditation, all thoughts of control over others are abandoned, so this is an excellent practice situation.

Non-judgmental

The problems created by being highly judgmental arise when we give voice to our judgments. Any strongly held opinion generally leads eventually to a public announcement. Immediately, someone will object to the judgment and then the battle is on. Serenity is lost. The most vicious of wars are fought not over land or money, but over ideas. Of course, one will have attitudes and values, this is part of any thinking person’s life. What we do not have to do is display controversial judgments in public. We can write about our judgments and save the discussion for just those friends we trust to hear us out without going into battle.

No personal opinion or judgment, no matter how strongly it is held, is worth defending if it means the loss of serenity, so we remember that our judgments in the past may often have been wrong and that most people are quite able to arrive at their own conclusions without our guidance. Efforts at mind control over others are simply incompatible with personal serenity. At best, all we can offer are the alternatives that have appealed to us and worked for us.

In the moment

Serenity depends on a skill for living in the moment. This is, after all, what most addictive behaviors do; they allow one to forget past and future. Unfortunately, the addictive mood-altered ability to live in the moment is only temporary and artificial.

The practice of any highly skilled non-addictive behavior seems also to force us to live one moment at a time. The challenge is to become able to ignore past and future concerns while sitting at rest in a contemplative state. One, of course, does not abandon responsibility for what has been done in the past, nor does one give up plans and hopes for the future. By slipping into life in the present moment through meditation, we limit and control the obsession with past and future, an obsession that has little to do with productive living. As they say, “Worry is not preparation,” nor is brooding guilt any kind of amends for past behavior. If you practice having an empty mind during periods of meditation, you will quickly see how difficult this skill is and how much some real, daily practice can help.