Searching for tranquility in a choppy current.

Where I grew up, on the Potomac River in Southern Maryland, very often the river was peaceful. Still. As still as liquid glass.

There were also times I stood on the dock during a heavy tide. You can’t stop the waves from crashing against the pilings, nor can you command the wind to change its mind. You can’t quiet the water. All you can do is decide where to plant your feet so you don’t lose your balance.

When life gets chaotic, most of us exhaust ourselves trying to calm the water. We rush to fix every moving piece, respond to every demand, and restore order to a world that feels momentarily out of control. When we can’t, we feel frantic. We tell ourselves we need “more patience,” but we treat patience like an endurance test—a grueling period of holding our breath until the storm finally passes.

But patience in chaotic times isn’t waiting for the water to calm down. It’s learning how to keep your footing while it swells. Lately I have been met with challenges both personally and professionally, that question every skill I possess to overcome and manage day to day. I have worked hard to let go of what I cannot control surrounding me. I have begun to change my approach. To find firmness and grounding in the foundation I have built. To remember the fleeting moments of stress or discomfort are temporary. And finally, to continue to search for that tranquility and patience that I know I posess and to bring it forward. On July 9th, I finally had my long 20 year envisioned tattoo come to fruition. Ensuring this happened was one of these steps, symbollically towards that search for tranquility. Although the water is not always perfectly still. I am capable of outlasting the tides and storms behind me and ahead. The photo of me on the dock over the Potomac, is taken the last year I lived in Maryland, 2009. The second is the new tattoo I just had done 7/9/26, some 20 years after the first thought of it in 2007.