A Separate Peace

Today I thought a lot about the book "A Separate Peace" by John Knowles.  I haven't read it since freshman year of high school, and I don't remember much of the storyline, but I do remember what the book was trying to teach, and that's what really matters, right?  It takes place at a boarding school for boys around the time of World War II.  The main character, Gene Forrester, returns to the boarding school many years after graduating.  He thinks back to some traumatic experiences he had as a schoolboy, and some scarring events he witnessed as a soldier in World War II.  He thought that he could find peace when he left the school, but then he was drafted to war.  He thought he could find peace when the war ended, but then the memories of school, and the war, still haunted him.

Finally, Gene realizes he must find a "separate peace".  One separate from external sources.  One inside himself.

Each of us must find this separate peace.  This inner peace, separate from the world.  Separate from everything that is external.  If we find this inner peace, we will be happy.  Without this inner peace, any happiness we achieve will only be fleeting and superficial.

We must become "at peace" with ourselves: come to understand that our worth is not based on the opinions and perceptions of others, nor on what the world views as beautiful or praiseworthy, and that we have nothing to prove to anyone.
And we must become "at peace" with the world: come to understand that we live in an ugly world full of hate and evil, but that does not mean that we must become hateful or evil, or that we be overwhelmed by despair.  We realize that there is much good in the world as well, and if we choose to become a part of it, we can make a difference for good.

But why are we not "at peace" to begin with?
Except for cases of abuse and the like, children live an idealized existence.  Until they experience what I like to call "a fall from innocence".  This does not mean that the child itself does something vile and wrong, and thus is no longer innocent, it simply means that the child comes to the realization that the world is not innocent.  In other words, it is a fall from naivety, from fairy-tale land; a gross realization that the world isn't perfect.  This may include a realization that those whom the child idolizes (such as their parents) are not perfect.

This fall from innocence may be caused by a single event, or by multiple small events.  Finding out that Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny are not legitimate may be one of these events.  In "A Separate Peace", Gene experiences a fall from innocence.

For me, my fall from innocence occurred, or at least began on, Sept 11, 2001.  I was 1 month shy of my 10th birthday on that day.  Before that day, "evil" was something that existed only in books and in fairy tales.  But on that day, as I saw smoke billowing out of the side of the Twin Towers, as I saw people tumble to their deaths--choosing to die from the impact rather than be engulfed by flames--and as I watched the towers collapse to the ground, I realized that evil was real, that it in actuality existed, and that it had attacked America.

So first, the child loses peace with the world.  This opens up the gates to lose peace with themselves.  The child thinks: If the world is imperfect, then people are imperfect.  If people are imperfect, then am I imperfect?  And they begin to notice their self-imperfections, and need proof that their imperfections don't make them less special.

Each of us must reconcile with our fall from innocence.  One technique than many try, and fail, is to return to innocence.  But it cannot be.  As much as "ignorance is bliss" and we wish we did not know what we know about the imperfect world and our imperfect self, we cannot return to ignorance.

So how are we reconciled with our fall from innocence?  How do we find a separate peace?

First, I would like to share my journey to find a separate peace...

For much of my life I based my self-worth on outward praise and recognition.

I never thought I was good-looking, because no one ever told me I was.
I never thought I was cool or fun to be around, because no one told me I was.
And, worst of all, I never thought that I was worthy of love and friendship, because it seemed like no one wanted to be my friend.
Even when I found "friends", it seemed like nobody wanted to be my "best friend".  They always had a friend who was more important than me.

Even the things I did know about myself for some strange reason needed outside validation.  I always knew I was smart, but I somehow needed people to tell me, I need to prove it to people, or it wasn't true.

All of these things are probably part of the reason why I always needed a "girlfriend" in High School.  It was a social status.  But more than proving to others that I was "cool" enough to have a girlfriend, in retrospect, I realize that I needed to prove it to myself.

As a Jr. High student, at some point I decided that I was going to be valedictorian when I graduated from High School.  That was how I was going to prove to everyone how "awesome" I was.  Throughout High School, I maintained a 4.0 GPA, and I received an excellent ACT score.  Whenever I logged into SIS (the online gradebook our school district used at the time) I was proud to see that I was ranked 1 out of 285.

Then, my last semester of high school, a personal issue devastated me: my girlfriend, whom I had been dating for my entire senior year of high school, broke up with me.  Looking back, I was extremely over-dramatic about it, but at that point my entire self-worth was based on having a girlfriend, and I instantly felt worthless. So I gave up.  I didn't do any homework for the last 3 weeks of school.  Miraculously, several of my teachers allowed me to turn everything in last-minute for partial credit, and I was able to pull some A's, but one teacher wouldn't accept anything.  And I was stuck with a C.  My 4.0 dropped to a 3.8, and I dropped to number 4 of 285.

Johnny Woodbrey was the valedictorian.  And I was angry.  I didn't think he deserved it.  He wasn't half as smart as me.  He hadn't taken as many AP classes as I.  He hadn't read as many books as I.  And on and on and on my self-pitying mind made up reasons why I was better than Johnny.  I loathed him, and for no reason other than I thought he was better than me, but that I should actually be better than him.

Then I went on my mission.  I was called to the Tokyo, Japan Mission and I entered the MTC in November 2011. I was to spend 12 weeks there learning the Japanese language.

The first few weeks, I spent what I am sure was an annoying amount of time talking about my previous accomplishments.  Until, one day, another elder in my district, Elder Coleman, pointedly remarked, "Elder Orton, no one cares what you did in High School."

I was hurt at first, but I soon realized he was right--not about the fact that nobody cared, but in the implicitly stated fact that it didn't matter.  I realized I needed to "start over".  I couldn't expect people to like me based on accomplishments they weren't there to see.  I also soon realized that the other elders in my district cared more about who I was than what I had done.

12 weeks later I was on a plane to Japan.  I remember my very first zone meeting, my zone leader, Elder Malcolm, upon greeting me and introducing himself, remarked, "Wow, you look exotic! What is your ethnicity?!"  I proudly shared with him that I had both Icelandic and Cherokee blood.  Some people might find this comment from Elder Malcolm a little strange.  I don't think so, and I am exceptionally grateful that he said that.  That was the first time that I ever felt that I was an attractive individual.

As my mission progressed, I realized that I was good-looking, I was cool and fun, I was smart, and, most importantly, I was worthy of love.
Almost every day of my mission, whomever my companion was, they expressed to me that they loved me.  I don't think that any of them realize how grateful I am for that.

For the first time in my entire existence, I felt that I could be myself.  My district leaders, my zone leaders, the APs, and my mission presidents always told me they loved me, and they meant it.  I am grateful to every single one of them.  They changed me.

My last mission president, President Wada, once said, "Man, Elder Orton, you are the smartest guy I have ever met.  Your brain does more in 10 minutes than mine does in an entire day."  I still remember how good it felt to hear him say that.

When I returned home, the way I dressed changed.  In high school, I had always worn gym shorts (much too large), a T-shirt (much too small) and tennis shoes every single day.  It looked horrible.  But I didn't care.  I told myself it was because I didn't care about what others thought, but really, looking back, I realized it was because I had very little self-respect.  I didn't care enough about myself to look good.

Anyways, I went from the gym shorts to slacks and a button-up shirt and nice shoes.  The way I dressed on the outside reflected the way I felt about myself on the inside.  I made other changes too.
(I am not suggesting if you don't dress ultra-fashionably or that if you prefer gym shorts and a T-shirt that you should dress different or that you don't feel good about yourself on the inside.  I am only reflecting upon what the way I dressed meant in my particular instance.)

I soon realized that I had found my separate peace.  I knew who I was, and what I was good at.  I knew my values and beliefs and what I stood for.  Although I was able to discover these things due to the outward praise of those I interacted with on my mission, my self-esteem was not based on this outward praise.  If it vanished, I would still know my worth as an individual.  Although I was still an out-going person, I no longer felt the need to seek attention, to fish for compliments, to impress others, show off, or prove myself.

I was no longer angry about not being valedictorian.  It didn't matter if anyone else knew how smart I was, it only mattered if I knew.  Johnny Woodrey wasn't better than me, and I wasn't better than him.  We were both amazing people, who were good at different things.

I had made peace with myself.  This peace came from knowing I was a Son of God, of infinite worth, and always worthy of His love.

I had made peace with the world too.  Through constant prayer and scripture study throughout my mission I had come to trust in God.  I had come to know He has a plan, and He is in charge.  I knew that no matter how bad the world got, God was still protecting and blessing the righteous, and He would not forsake.

I honestly believe Jesus Christ was the happiest man to ever live on this earth.  But how?  He had no riches!  No source of entertainment!  People didn't believe Him: He was constantly called a blasphemer and a liar!  Everyone was always trying to kill Him!  He never got a vacation or a bonus check or won an award.  In fact, he suffered more than any person to walk the earth before or since.  How could he possibly be the happiest man to ever live?

Because He had a separate peace.  His happiness was not based on riches, on worldly pleasures, or what others thought of Him.  It wasn't even based on the absence of trials, temptations, and pain.  It was based on knowing who He was, and never once thinking about Himself.

I could cite dozens of instances throughout the New Testament of Christ's selflessness.  But I'll leave that up to the diligent and sincere Seekers of Truth.  I will cite 3 instances, rolled into 1, that I found the most powerful and profound.

When Christ was on the cross.  As he hung and bled, he thought of 3 people before himself.

First, He thought of the thief hanging beside Him.  This thief begged for mercy, and Christ had the love and compassion to comfort him.  "And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise." (Luke 23:43). And I am sure that this thief was one of the first to receive the gospel from Christ in the Spirit world!

Second, the Savior thought of His mother.   "When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son!  Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother!" (John 19:26-27).  He made sure that His mother was taken care of!

Third, the Great Redeemer thought of the Roman guards who crucified Him.  "Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do..." (Like 23:34)  He asks God, His Father, to forgive the very men who nailed Him to the cross!

During his entire life, Christ was selfless.  He always put others before Himself.  And even as He hung on the cross--the weight of His body literally crushing His lungs, His back torn and bruised from dozens of whip lashings, puncture wounds from a crown of thorns dripping blood upon His brow, and His hand and feet pierced by nails--He thinks of other people!

If that isn't a reason to follow His example, I don't know what is.

That is how Christ was always to happy.  That is how He could say "be of good cheer!"  Because through selflessness, He had achieved a happiness above the pains of this world.

So how do we find a separate peace?

We have to become internally validated.  If we feel a need to be externally validated, our worth is based only on being better than someone else.  But if come to know our true worth as Sons and Daughters of God, and use that as internal validation, we will find a separate peace.