Swallowing the Key: Finding Stability in an Impermanent World
For a long time, I believed stability was something I could find or create—an anchor just waiting out there in a person, a place, or some perfect life I was building toward. I thought that if I held on tightly enough through every storm, if I was steady enough, I’d finally feel rooted. I’d finally feel whole.
But life taught me that stability isn’t out there. It’s not in the people or places we think will hold us up. It was waiting for me to become it. And that realization came with a price—sometimes in the form of people or plans I thought I could keep. They drifted away, swept off by winds of betrayal or cowardice, reminding me that the ground I was standing on could never be as permanent as I’d hoped.
Stability, I’ve come to understand, is a choice to carry peace within myself. It’s my own steady gravity, less about clinging to what’s outside and more about grounding myself, no matter the terrain or the losses. It’s the anchor I’ve had to forge within, through every false start, every goodbye, every new beginning.
In this world where so much is uncertain, I know now that stability is my own truth—the key I swallowed, the center I protect fiercely. This is the foundation I carry, the part of me that doesn’t waver, no matter who or what drifts away.
That’s what it means to be well-tuned—to carry your stability within, in a world that’s always changing. This is the best I can be, the best we can be, and it’s enough.
