Morning Coffee in the Harbor: Stillness as a Mirror for the Soul
Steam curls upward from the cup cradled between my hands. In the harbor, the boats lie still — finally still. After days of relentless wind, the morning has turned so soft that you can hear the water lapping gently against the hulls. As I take my first sip, engines begin to rumble all around me. One by one, sailboats leave the shelter of the harbor, heading home. And I remain seated, watching the departure of others, wondering: what does this moment actually reveal about who I am? The Boat or the Man It is a question seafarers often ask when the weather turns: can the boat handle this? But anyone who is honest knows that the real question is a different one entirely. It is rarely about the strength of the vessel. It is about the person at the helm. Can you withstand the wind, the uncertainty, the unknown waiting beyond the horizon? For the past few days, everyone stayed in port because conditions were too fierce. Not for the boats — for the souls steering them. This distinction touches something essential. In Freemasonry, we speak of working the rough ashlar, of shaping character and personality through labor upon oneself. […]
