Peace is an invention.

Some context first, because with this one it matters where it came from. When people talk about microdosing mushrooms, they mean around a tenth of a gram. A “heroic” dose is five grams. This came from thirty. Three hundred times a microdose. I mention it not as a trip review, but because this isn’t something you’ll find in the ordinary sphere of consciousness. It isn’t there. Honestly, half the time it isn’t even here.

Somewhere in the middle of it, I felt like I was pushing through an embryonic sac — but for the mind. Like my consciousness was being born. And I saw that this whole time it had been living inside a self-contained superloop. A kind of shared hypnotic trance. I looked around and realised: everyone is in it. Almost no one is actually seeing the world outside their own mind. It’s the strangest thing, because there’s no one running it — we’re all just in it together.

And from outside that trance, I saw something about inventions. About one invention in particular — one we’ve never really built, and certainly never scaled. Peace.

Real peace. Because most of the time when people say “keep the peace,” they don’t mean peace. They mean: make the fighting stop. And you can stop the fighting with a big enough threat — dominance, a weapon, fear — and call it calm. But that isn’t peace. Often “keep the peace” just means submit to a higher power, so the real conflict never gets explored.

That’s the crux: peace can’t come from unexplored war. Being afraid of violence, judging it, deciding it’s simply bad — none of that is peace. That’s just someone who isn’t at peace with conflict. If you want the real thing, you have to be at peace with conflict itself. With war. With violence. Only then is there anything solid to build on.

So when I say peace is an invention, I mean it literally. In the emotional realm, it’s like inventing light in the dark, or warmth in the cold, or connection where there was only isolation. A real thing, that can be made. And it is nowhere near scaled, or widely available, yet.

Here’s what struck me hardest. You can sort every invention into two categories. All of them — fire, language, electricity, computing, AI (we turned sand into something that can think), robotics, medicine, going multiplanetary — all of them create abundance. In potential: infinite time, infinite space, infinite resources, infinite processing of those resources. Fantastic. And not one of them touches what we DO with all of it. We could take eternity and infinite creativity and make hell out of it. None of them, on their own, guarantee heaven. Not one.

Peace is in a category of its own. In the trip it arrived after this endless, multi-timelined thing where I lived every war I’ve ever had with myself through the thing we call humanity — dying and killing, over and over, from both sides, since the beginning of time. All because I hadn’t yet learned how to cooperate with a sentience outside my direct control. That ability is a literal invention. We’ve never had it at a species level. It would be a genuine first.

People philosophise at me about how it isn’t possible — and then I ask them to show me the physics. Show me where the universe forbids it. It doesn’t. There’s a path. We can actually do this. It’d be a multi-generational effort, sure. But it’s real.

And here’s the beautiful irony: because of what peace is, you can never enforce it. You can’t make another being peaceful. You can only offer the things that lead to it, and make them available. But you — you can choose it for yourself, create it inside yourself, and facilitate it around you. That’s the whole game. And it’s really, really cool.