I was 17, I think. The weather was warm and I was wearing shorts, so it must have been summer vacation. My mother was in the house reading or maybe sewing. I went outside and just sat in the small patch of green we had for a yard, contemplating life as I had always loved to do, enjoying my own company.
I had no idea where my life was going, but it was time for it to start going somewhere. I couldn’t see anything out there for me to hold onto or give me some sense of direction. My few friends had their own plans which did not include me. And then I stopped thinking and let myself be present. It was a quiet moment of stillness at the center of a chaotic world, and in it I became aware of a profound concept: security comes from within.
I knew in some nebulous, untried way, that everything would work out, not because of what other people thought of me, but because of what I believed about myself and my abilities. (And that, I learned throughout my life, could be both help and hindrance.)