Still Water - Simple Light

There’s a lighthouse out there — small, steady, almost mistaken for a boat from shore. To its left, a channel marker; to its right, the remains of an old mooring pier. Between them lies an entire vocabulary of stillness.

That morning, the water and sky were the same muted blue. Everything unnecessary had quietly fallen away. After looking out there for a while, I realized this is how clarity often shows up — not with a grand revelation, but through calm alignment. The lighthouse holds its place. The marker reminds us where the safe water runs. And the broken pier — it’s what remains of what once held us in place.

Simplicity isn’t absence; it’s the presence of what truly matters. I’ve been learning to let my own days feel more like this horizon — balanced, measured, a meeting point of what was built, what endures, and what is still becoming — and I still leave room for breaks, blurs, and coloring outside the lines.

“In the midst of movement and chaos, keep stillness inside of you.”

- Deepak Chopra

There was a time when simplicity felt like control — a need to have everything in order. But now I see it as a kind of mercy: giving the day space to unfold without me pushing at every edge.

A lighthouse doesn’t force the light; it simply stands where it’s meant to, allowing illumination to do its work.

“Simplicity is not the absence of clutter - it’s the essence of order.”

- Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Returning to this photograph feels like an invitation — a reminder that peace isn’t something to achieve. It’s what happens when I quietly align my inner weather with the calm just beyond the pier.

And what about you? How do you go about arranging the simplicity in your life? Are there ways to remove things and brighten your horizon? Does less allow you to see more?

Try standing back to get a better look at what’s really there.

Talk soon…

G