We cannot control our life. If we are set upon doing so, we have abdicated from peace, which must balance what is desired with what is possible. As Hokusai shows so memorably, the great wave is in waiting for any boat. It is unpredictable, as uncontrollable now as it was at the dawn of time. Will the slender boats survive or will they be overwhelmed? The risk is a human constant; it has to be accepted — and laid aside. What we can do, we do. Beyond that, we endure, our endurance framed by a sense of what matters and what does not. The worst is not that we may be overwhelmed by disaster, but to fail to live by principle. Yet we are fallible, and so the real worst, the antithesis of peace, is to refuse to recognize failure and humbly begin again.
The light of the soul throws sparks, can set up flares, builds fires, causes proper matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of the soul in shadowy times like these, to be fierce and to show mercy toward others, both, are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity. Struggling souls catch lights from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it.