The path to inner peace

More than a decade ago, England’s royal family was rocked by scandals. The British tabloids had a heyday exposing the indiscretions of Prince Charles and Camilla, Fergie and a Texan tycoon, Diana and her lovers, and her being bulimic to boot. 

On top of all this, a wing of the Buckingham Palace caught fire and drove the royal occupants to pack up and move to another one of their many castles.

Queen Elizabeth went on air and called that year of her life as her annus horribilis. Ever since then, I have not forgotten that word and hoped that I would never experience my own horrible year. Well, it happened. This year is definitely it, my own annus horribilis. 

In July, I opted to forego a trip to Europe because I wanted to put up a foundation for poor children who cannot afford to have a proper education. I met a Frenchman who has been going to Iloilo for the past 12 years bringing a team of doctors to operate on poor children with harelip, and he told me that these children are so poor they can’t afford to go to school. He inspired me to put up an educational foundation for them. 

But then a catastrophe happened before I could start my foundation. The Singaporean head of the investment company where I put the blood, sweat and tears of a lifetime absconded with all the money of his investors. I have invested my money in this company for nine years and everything was running well as far as we investors were concerned. The scammer ran it so well that we put more and more of our hard-earned money, much to our regret.

Unless I live to a ripe old age of 100 when senility will definitely have set in, I will never forget that day when my account executive walked into my apartment to give me the bad news. A KO punch from Manny Pacquiao would have been better received. At most, I would have regained consciousness with the thought that a world-class boxing champion knocked me out.  But to be knocked out by someone who paraded himself as a friend to be trusted, as a brilliant currency trader who promised his investors “capital guarantee,” and he turns out to be a swindler in the end, is very difficult to swallow.

The weeks that followed were chaotic. I could only speak for myself but I know that I was depressed and like a zombie. I followed whoever promised us possibilities of financial recovery. I attended all the investors’ meetings in the hope that some genie would come out from a bottle and magically announce to one and all that our money was back in our bank accounts. I gathered strength from priests, counselors, family members and went to all the churches and prayed novenas with caring friends who experienced miracles in their lives after they completed their novenas. 

I even called Silent Unity, a praying group in the USA that prays for your intentions nonstop for a month, with the hope that God would show instant mercy if prayers were said 24/7 for a particular intention. I am a firm believer in the power of prayer, after all.

It was a hell of an existence and lasted for weeks and weeks. There seemed to be no miracle in sight. The water did not turn into wine, the lame did not walk, the blind beggars in the street were still blind, my bank account was still in shatters and the Singaporean scammer was in some Caribbean island enjoying his new 80-foot yacht.

Then one day, on a visit to my father’s office, I happened to glance at the framed copy of the Serenity Prayer that was hanging on his wall. It says: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Reading those words made it crystal clear to me: It was time to put my disappointments and frustrations behind me and focus on the positive parts of my life — my loving and supportive family, a lot of caring friends, my business, the simple pleasures of my day-to-day existence. It was a big loss for sure but feeling bitter, shortchanged and depressed was not the way I wanted to live. I quit mourning the loss of my finances and finally resigned myself to a tight budget. I am starting to be peaceful with the fact that I will have to practice detachment from material goods. No shopping sprees for the moment. I count my blessings of health, a roof over my head, three meals a day, loving gestures from family and friends.

It’s tough to let go of something you really want badly, (in my case and my fellow investors — restoration of our lost finances) but if you release yourself from the relentless pull of your “if only…” mode of thinking, a sense of peace will rush into that mental space instead.

C. Leslie Charles, author of Why is Everyone So Cranky?, says that “when you can just ‘be’ with a situation, things usually begin to relax, turn and reshape for the better.”

One does not have to give up hopes and dreams of recovering what has been lost, neither must one be in denial of one’s hopes. But “getting focused or obsessed with a goal or yearning can leave you feeling cheated,” says Charles.

Letting go, by contrast, means making a choice — you decide not to give in to your thoughts and actions that waste your time, to not dwell on what you don’t have.

This could be the first step to a more blessed and less stressed-out existence. In the immortal words of the Rolling Stones: “You can’t always get what you want.” Resignation and letting go of obsessions that you think hold the keys to your happiness could put you  on the path to inner peace.

I know that my annus horribilis will correct itself and with my new mindset, wonderful times are ahead for me.