Product Description

Confronting and solving problems is a painful process which most of us attempt to avoid. Avoiding resolution results in greater pain and an inability to grow both mentally and spiritually. Drawing heavily on his own professional experience, Dr M. Scott Peck, a psychiatrist, suggests ways in which facing our difficulties - and suffering through the changes - can enable us to reach a higher level of self-understanding. He discusses the nature of loving relationships: how to distinguish dependency from love; how to become one's own person and how to be a more sensitive parent. This is a book that can show you how to embrace reality and yet achieve serenity and a richer existence. Hugely influential, it has now sold over ten million copies - and has changed many people's lives round the globe. It may change yours.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #107585 in Books
• Published on: 2003-02-17
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 320 pages

Review
A brilliant self-help book, which I found genuinely inspiring...everyone will find something to console them within these pages -- Boy George, Sunday Express

About the Author
A graduate of both Harvard University and Case Western Reserve, Dr Peck served in the Army Medical Corps from 1963 to 1972 and had a private practice in psychiatry from 1972 to 1983. He also devoted much of his time and financial resources to the work of the Foundation for Community Encouragement, a nonprofit organization which he and his wife, Lily, helped found in 1984. His bestselling books include The Road Less Travelled and Beyond, A World Waiting to Be Born, and What Return Can I Make? Dr Peck died in 2005.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
At the age of thirteen I went away from home to Phillips Exeter Academy, a boy's preparatory school of the very highest reputation, to which my brother had gone before me. I knew that I was fortunate to be going there, because attendance at Exeter was part of a well defined pattern that would lead me to one of the best Ivy League colleges and from there into the highest echelons of the Establishment, whose doors would be wide open to me on account of my educational background. I felt extremely lucky to have been born the child of well-to-do parents who could afford `the best education that money could buy,' and I had a great sense of security which came from being a part of what was so obviously a proper pattern. The only problem was that almost immediately after starting Exeter I became miserably unhappy. The reasons for my unhappiness were totally obscure to me then and are still quite profoundly mysterious to me today. I just did not seem to fit. I didn't seem to fit with the faculty, the students, the courses, the architecture, the social life, the total environment. Yet there seemed nothing to do other than to try to make the best of it and try to mold my imperfections so that I could fit more comfortably into this pattern that had been laid out for me and that was so obviously the right pattern. And try I did for two and a half years. Yet daily my life appeared more meaningless and I felt more wretched. The last year I did little but sleep, for only in sleep could I find any comfort. In retrospect I think perhaps in my sleep I was resting and unconsciously preparing myself for the leap I was about to take. I took it when I returned home for spring vacation of my third year and announced that I was not going to return to school. My father said, `But you can't quit - it's the best education money can buy. Don't you realize what you'd be throwing away?'

`I know it's a good school,' I replied, `but I'm not going back.'

`Why can't you adjust to it, make another go of it?' my parents asked.

`I don't know,' I answered, feeling totally inadequate. `I don't even know why I hate it so. But I hate it and I'm not going back.'

`Well, what are you going to do, then? Since you seem to want to play so loose with your future, just what is it you plan to do?'

Again I miserably replied, `I don't know. All I know is I'm not going back there.'

My parents were understandably alarmed and took me forthwith to a psychiatrist, who stated that I was depressed and recommended a month's hospitalization, giving me a day to decide whether or not this was what I wanted. That night was the only time I ever considered suicide. Entering a psychiatric hospital seemed quite appropriate to me. I was, as the psychiatrist said, depressed. My brother had adjusted to Exeter; why couldn't I? I knew that my difficulty in adjusting was entirely my fault, and I felt totally inadequate, incompetent and worthless. Worse, I believed that I was probably insane. Had not my father said, `You must be crazy to throw away such a good education'? If I returned to Exeter I would be returning to all that was safe, secure, right, proper, constructive, proven and known. Yet it was not me. In the depths of my being I knew it was not my path. But what was my path?
If I did not return, all that lay ahead was unknown, undetermined, unsafe, insecure, unsanctified, unpredictable. Anyone who would take such a path must be mad. I was terrified. But then, at the moment of my greatest despair, from my unconscious there came a sequence of words, like a strange disembodied oracle from a voice that was not mine: `The only real security in life lies in relishing life's insecurity.' Even if it meant being crazy and out of step with all that seemed holy, I had decided to be me. I rested. In the morning I went to see the psychiatrist again and told him that I would never return to Exeter but that I was ready to enter his hospital. I had taken the leap into the unknown. I had taken my destiny into my own hands.

The process of growing up usually occurs very gradually, with multiple little leaps into the unknown, such as when an eight-year-old boy first takes the risk of riding his bike down to the country store all by himself or a fifteen-year- old goes out on his or her first date. If you doubt that these represent real risks, then you cannot remember the anxiety involved. If you observe even the healthiest of children you will see not only an eagerness to risk new and adult activities but also, side by side, a reluctance, a shrinking back, a clinging to the safe and familiar, a holding on to dependency and childhood. Moreover, on more or less subtle levels, you can find this same ambivalence in an adult, including yourself, with the elderly particularly tending to cling to the old, known and familiar. Almost daily at the age of forty I am presented with subtle opportunities to risk doing things differently, opportunities to grow. I am still growing up, and not as fast as I might. Among all the little leaps we might take, there are also some enormous ones, as when by leaving school I was also forsaking a whole pattern of life and values according to which I had been raised.
Many never take any of these potential enormous leaps, and consequently many do not ever really grow up at all.

Customer Reviews

Essential
Not easy reading but worth every second and all the effort that you put in it. While Peck's style is generally engaging and simple, there are times when you might need to re-read his words to get his meaning. This is probably because the subject matter gets your mind working almost from the first word. Each chapter deserves to be read slowly and carefully and therefore, it is not an 'easy' read.

This is a book about living; living in a way that sets you apart. It's a book about Life and everything that we normally associate with it and with living. Peck divides the book into four sections: Discipline, Love, Growth & Religion, & Grace. But in these sections he addresses everything from falling in love to solving problems and dealing with pain. The challenge, of course, is doing all of these things in our limited lifetimes, but he writes about that too.

Most of us tend to take these `things' for granted; we 'do' them without thinking about the reasons, methods, or the consequences. In the 'The Road Less Traveled', Scott Peck forces us to think about what we do, what we feel, and what we think in different ways that we have not thought of before.

Scott Peck combines years of psychotherapy with a natural writing style that attracts the reader and challenges his/her mind. It is not the writing style that makes the book difficult reading (even though there are a few instances in the book when he does become too involved), but the continuous challenge to you mind and to your preconceived ideas. Peck demands that you examine your mind, your feelings and your heart deeply and objectively. Most of us find that difficult.

Peck comes across his book as a warm and sensitive person and he makes you feel at ease instantly... What else would you expect from someone whose opening sentence is "Life is difficult!"

Charting a path...
I first read M. Scott Peck's `The Road Less Travelled' over 20 years ago, but it is a text to which I return again and again, as Peck's insights and observations remain a constant source of inspiration and guidance in my life. It still finds a ready home in the hands of therapists, counselors, ministers, teachers, career planners, and others as part of their resources, and is not out of place in the home of anyone who cares about the directions of her or his life.

Peck is a clinical psychiatrist - the material for this book came largely from his experiences with clients and others, seeing what worked and what didn't, what was missing and what was mis-understood. Often cases involved psychotherapy (talk therapy), but the processes here are not confined to therapists' offices. The same kinds of problem solving, processing and relationship building that takes place in psychotherapy can be used as life-long tools.

Peck resists labels such as Freudian and Jungian; he doesn't look for, nor does he offer, quick fixes or the psychotherapeutic variety of the get-rich-quick schemes. This book is not a therapy manual, but rather a guide to spiritual growth that incorporates therapeutic and psychological principles. Peck echoes the sentiments of many spiritual directors and leaders through the millennia that spiritual and personal growth are long journeys, not short leaps. It involves dedication and intention, and a willingness to accept risk and change.

Perhaps it is ironic that, given this, the first topic Peck focuses upon is Discipline. However, without discipline, change can go unchecked and uncharted, growth can become problematic, and the human soul becomes susceptible to a host of difficulties. Dedication and application to problem-solving and long-term building (whether it be of retirement funds or of one's own spirit) requires a disciplined approach that recognises that life is difficulty (the first of Buddha's Four Noble Truths, cited by Peck), gratification sometimes needs to be delayed for greater goods, and reality needs to be approached and dealt with responsibly.

Peck calls here for a life to be totally dedicated to the truth. This is hard, because we as human beings are so accustomed to rationalisation and reinterpretation. This kind of dedication also requires a balance in life, and an ability to be flexible as the truths of our lives change - few of us are in possession of timeless and eternal truths governing every aspect of our lives, and often those who feel they are end up disappointed in the end. The continuing creativity of God in our lives requires flexibility, but this is best achieved in a disciplined and balanced context.

Peck then turns to love, a mysterious thing even in the best of times. He identifies some of the myths of `falling in love' and romantic love that our culture through various means idealises, leading to great dissatisfaction when we do not achieve the desired feelings or situations. Peck makes the assertion that love is not really a feeling, but rather an action or activity, that involves a lot of risk-taking (Peck talks about risks of independence, of commitment, of confrontation, and of loss). True love requires discipline and recognition of the needs of the self and others.

The final two sections of the text deal with aspects of religion on the spiritual and psychological development of persons. The first section looks at religion and growth processes. He does a short survey of some attitudes toward religions and denominations, as well as a look at how the modern scientific mindset colours the worldview of modern people, particularly with ideas of verification and skepticism. Some psychologists and theorists have wondered if religion were mass delusions, mass psychosis, or some other kind of sickness. Peck uses interesting extended case studies here to examine the role of various aspects of religion in the developmental lives of several people. Peck asks the question, `Is belief in God a psychopathology?' In some aspects, and for some people, the way they approach and `use' religion, the answer may well be yes. However, Peck also takes the psychotherapeutic community to task for often being too narrow or too dismissive of the value of religious sentiment and institutions in the lives of their charges.

The final section looks at the role of grace in the spiritual growth process. Grace is another mysterious force, like love, that is difficult to pin down and explain. It is also something uncontrollable. Why do some with artistic talent end up being successful and celebrated, and others not? Why do some use their talent, when others don't? In cases of ultimate despair, Peck makes the observation that while it is often clear why some people commit suicide, it is not often clear why others in the same situations don't. Some of this has to do with the unconscious mind that guides us, and some of it has to do with the miracle of serendipity, as Peck describes it.

Peck describes in some detail his concept of what grace is and how it works, in very general terms that relate to no denomination or religion in particular, but has wide applicability. He talks both about resistance to grace and the welcoming of grace. Grace is not easy, and often comes with responsibilities (Bonhoeffer talks about cheap grace; the requirements of grace are noted through scriptures of many religions). Welcoming grace welcomes often more than we bargained for, but also often more than we hoped.

In his afterword, Peck discusses the difficulties of writing in an organised and linear fashion about something so fundamentally disorganised as spiritual growth and therapeutic processes. He also talks about the need for finding competent help when required - ability is not measured by degrees, he states (something true in many professions). This is useful for those seeking a first therapeutic relationship, or needing a change.

Two roads diverged in a wood...
...And I took the one less traveled by...

The essence of this book is summed up in the first three words. Life is difficult. Peck shows us that our avoidance of problems and their accompanying suffering are the root of mental illness. Difficulties are a fact of life, and they never go away. By refusing to acknowledge and overcome them, we create a barrier to our spiritual growth.

When I first read this book several years ago, I was not ready to hear its message. I had created my own reality, believing that I was working at my full capacity and was on the road to achieving my full potential.

While this book was not the source of revelation, it has been a catalyst to help me realize the self-deception that kept me from being a truly loving person. There is a long road ahead, but I am now on the path of lifelong learning and growth. The Road Less Traveled has helped me identify and remove many of the barriers that up until now had held me back from being the person God created me to be.

...And that has made all the difference.

Larry Hehn, author of Get the Prize: Nine Keys for a Life of Victory