When you've seen beyond yourself, then you may find, peace of

"When you've seen beyond yourself, then you may find, peace of mind is waiting there." Thus spoke George Harrison, and in his words flows the wisdom of centuries, drawn from the wells of both East and West. He speaks of the sacred turning outward, of lifting the eyes from one’s own desires, fears, and ambitions, to gaze upon the greater whole. For the self alone is a cage, narrow and suffocating, but when the walls of that cage dissolve, the soul breathes freely and knows the sweetness of peace of mind.

The ancients knew this truth. Did not the Buddha, after years of wandering and striving, sit beneath the Bodhi tree and see beyond himself? In that moment of awakening, he discovered not more craving, not more turmoil, but release—serenity, clarity, a path toward liberation. To look beyond the self is to see that one’s life is bound to all life, that one’s suffering is but a drop in a vast ocean, and that joy comes not from grasping tighter, but from letting go. Harrison, shaped by his own journey into Indian philosophy and music, gave voice to this timeless teaching in words gentle yet profound.

The lives of saints and sages across history testify to this. Consider Francis of Assisi, who cast aside wealth and pride to serve the poor. He saw beyond himself, beyond the glitter of possessions, and in doing so found a peace of mind that no crown could bestow. His life, emptied of self but filled with love, became a hymn that continues to echo through the centuries. The world remembers not his comforts, but his clarity, born of seeing the world as something greater than his own hunger.

Even in the realm of warriors and rulers, the lesson remains. Emperor Marcus Aurelius, though he held the vast Roman world in his hand, wrote in his meditations that the self must be humbled, that each man is but a thread in the tapestry of the cosmos. When he looked beyond himself, he found a calm that neither victories nor defeats could disturb. His strength was not in conquest alone, but in his ability to master his own mind.

Children of tomorrow, mark this truth: the self is a restless sea. If you live only for yourself, you will be tossed by every wave of desire, anger, and fear. But if you look beyond—to others, to the eternal, to the harmony that binds all life—you will find the waters growing still. Peace of mind does not wait in wealth, in applause, or in indulgence; it waits in perspective, in the widening of the heart’s horizon.

Practical action is close at hand. Serve others before yourself, even in small ways. Step outside the prison of constant self-concern by acts of kindness, by moments of silence, by contemplating the vastness of the sky or the eternity of the stars. Each time you look beyond your narrow world, you draw nearer to that resting place of the spirit. Make it a habit to pause, to breathe, and to see how small troubles become when viewed against the grandeur of the whole.

Thus, the lesson is clear: true peace of mind is not found by clinging to the self, but by transcending it. Harrison’s words are not a song only, but a teaching. If you would walk in calmness, if you would live with strength, then lift your eyes beyond yourself. See others, serve others, and see the eternal. There, waiting, you will find the stillness that every heart longs for.