I haven’t been reading or writing much lately, but I did just finish Way of the Peaceful Warrior, a book that was given to me long ago by a friend of my brother. The friend was addicted to heroin at the time and had just pawned off my acoustic guitar I lent him in order to buy more junk. He came to me shortly after the event and told me he had something for me while reaching into his backpack.
I knew my guitar wouldn’t fit in the bag… and I wasn’t using heroin so I had zero idea what the hell he was about to give me. Out of his bag he pulled out a beat up copy of `Way of the Peaceful Warrior’, handed it to me with a smile, and said `I never give my books to anyone, but I want you to have this’. I glanced at the front cover, which boldly claimed it was a `Book That Changes Lives’, and automatically thought `heard that one before’, said thanks, and put it in my bag. In retrospect I noticed he was a lot calmer than usual, but I didn’t make any connection between that and the book he gave me. At the time I was so absorbed in my own little world that I had minimal awareness of other people and my environment.
I read a couple of pages a day or two later, and deciding I wasn’t interested in the story, put it back in the bookshelf where it collected dust for a while. That was maybe a year ago, I can’t recall, but quite recently I saw the friend again, after a long absence, and found out that he was leaving Melbourne for good to move to Hawaii. So I decided I would read that book he gave me; after all, he had previously introduced me to The Alchemist, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and Shantaram, so I figured he was a on a roll with good books. I read the book while in Indonesia in a couple of days, and I didn’t want it to end. After finishing it I felt a zest that I hadn’t felt in a long time; I bubbled with energy and appreciation for life. Has this book changed my life? Definitely. Infinite gratitude goes to the friend who gave me the book, whose life appears to have changed as well: he has now kicked his heroin addiction, is practicing a vegan diet, and is getting married to a beautiful girl in Hawaii!
It’s a good thing I didn’t read the book when I first received it, because I don’t think I was at a stage in my life where I could appreciate such a book, or absorb its insights. This is the sort of book that will come to you when you are ready, and I don’t doubt that you will read it more than once when that time comes. As for the story, it’s not important, but I’ll humour you and say it’s about a young gymnast named Dan Millman (the book’s author: it’s a partly autobiographical book) who discovers an old nameless man at a gas station, whom he develops a teacher/student relationship with.
“My Name’s Dan,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand, smiling insincerely. “What’s Yours?”
He placed a screwdriver in my outstretched hand. “My name doesn’t matter; neither does yours. What is important is what lies between names and beyond questions.” – p. 21
Dan calls the old man Socrates, which is a very fitting name for two reasons: 1. Socrates, the Greek philosopher, was very wise. And 2. No one knows whether Socrates really existed, as he only exists within the writings of Plato, his pupil. Socrates is for the most part shrouded in mystery, but what does get revealed to you about him I will not ruin. This is a book that I think is best to know as little about as possible before reading. All I will say is that the book follows the relationship of Dan and Soc till the very end as Dan, and the reader, struggle to come to terms with the new world Socrates has opened up – a world of infinite energy and potential.
A Taste of the Book
“I became the wind, yet with eyes and ears. And I saw and heard far and wide. I blew past the east coast of India near the Bay of Bengal, past a scrubwoman busy with her tasks. In Hong Kong, I whirled around a seller of fine fabric bargaining loudly with a shopper. I raced through the streets of São Paulo, drying the sweat of German tourists playing volleyball in the hot tropical sun. I left no country untouched. I thundered through China and Mongolia and across the vast, rich land of the Soviet Union. I gusted through valleys and alpine meadows of Austria, sliced cold through the fjords of Norway. I tossed up litter on the Rue Pigalle in Paris. One moment I was a twister, ripping across Texas; the next, I was a gentle breeze, caressing the hair of a young girl contemplating suicide in Canton, Ohio .I experienced every emotion, heard every cry of anguish and ever peal of laughter. Every human circumstance was opened to me. I felt it all, and I understood. The world was peopled with minds, whirling faster than any wind, in search of distraction and escape from the predicament of change, the dilemma of life and death – seeking purpose, security, enjoyment; trying to make sense of the mystery. Everyone everywhere lived a confused, bitter search. Reality never matched their dreams; happiness was just around the corner – a corner they never turned. And the source of it all was the human mind.” p. 52.
★★★★★ 5 stars