Karma the better in world of stress

THE ART OF GETTING SOME PEACE: I lay on a bed in the caravan with the bedroom door shut and I smiled inside.

My wife had obviously explained to the children what I was supposed to doing and they were keen to get involved.

I could hear them bickering about who was going to have some peace with me. “I want some first!” one shouted. “No, I’m having some first!” came the reply.

The aforementioned peace had been broken before it had really begun. Luckily, the United Nations were on their way.

Strange concept, I thought to myself, this having some peace, because you can only really consider something peaceful if it’s in comparison with something that isn’t. Your version of peace will be relative to the amount of war in your life.

The word conjures up images of tranquillity. Of a quiet mountain stream, of reading a book in a shaded garden or of fishing on a still canal without a soul in sight.

Peace usually tends to descend slowly as noise abates. Sometimes though it arrives all of a sudden with huge relief, like when you close the door after an unexpected visit from relations. Sometimes you don’t appreciate it until it’s gone when you suddenly realise that the quiet before the storm is over. Sometimes you know your peace won’t last so you cherish every second of it.

Having some peace mean no distractions, no hassles, just you and the voices in your head. It’s with a deep breath and an “ahhh” that you can contemplate in silence.

But quiet moments of reflection are also a good time to think about those things or people who would usually be the cause of such commotion.

The bedroom door creaked open and within seconds my little girl was sat on the pillow next to my head.

“Can I have some peace with you Daddy?” she asked very sweetly. “Of course you can.” I replied and she beamed. “I’ll go and get my toys then.”

Then, crash! My two-year-old arrived. “I want one!” he demanded with his hands on his hips. “You want one what?” I said. “I want a piece.” he insisted.

You’d better climb up then.” I held out my hands. The peaceful times were well and truly over but I really didn’t mind.

Next week . . . The Art of Picking your nose.