Peace of Mind

Learning From The Room

    This did not come from stillness or from grace,
    It came from that looping room I could not leave or face.
    From cold roads walked at nineteen through the night,
    From descending stairs in search of morning light.
    What the struggle left behind when it was done,
    Was not a trophy earned but something quietly won.
  

    Although right now I am struggling,
      Knees deep in a whirlpool of glue,
    I must write down my tussling
      And let my words stew in my own juice.
    This exact moment of abundant enchainment
    Is actually a monument of reluctant attainment.
    It took billions of years, countless generations of strain,
    Endless hard work, over uncertainty and pain,
    Still demanding boundless embers and infinite sparks,
    For this second to happen and fade into the dark.
  

    So why do we think we can script what lies ahead?
    Why fight for control when the cosmos itself has led?
    It's all written by Chance, by a far greater hand.
    The margin of error is not ours to command.
    Perhaps the Universe errs with intentional design,
    A dance beyond comprehension, a rhythm so fine.
    Through Chance we float, through risks we grow,
    For Order goes in the same river where Chaos flows.
  

    Then how do we find peace in this waltz with risks
    When each truth seems to exist wrapped in twists?
    Every culture has sayings that hide in plain sight,
    We somehow turn away and still know they are right.
    "Go with the flow," "Let it go," they repeat again,
    "Do your best, and the rest will come in the end."
    Like a mother's nagging that cuts to the root,
    As boring as it sounds, it still rings true.
  

    Because knowing means nothing, it is experience that shows,
    The only way out is through whatever unfolds.
    In one view, it's prolonged suffering in our own self-struggle,
    In another, it's the essence of growth that makes us juggle.
    Sometimes we cling to dear life, refusing to give in,
    Other times we let go, sparing ourselves from sin.
    Reconciliation comes when our "what ifs" fade to none,
    As we realize all can coexist beneath the universal sun.
  

    I think the answer to our cosmic ponder lies not at the end,
    It travels with us, as a witness, a guide and a friend.
    When odds seem impossible, we rely on our faith to steer,
    Muster courage, hand it to Chance, and hold it near.
    It's a leap of faith, where both our fear and hope entwine,
    A nosedive at times, yet a path that leads to the divine.
  

    It's the risk of being alive, the fear we learn to sleep with,
    Our life is a song humming with its endless myth.
    A lullaby through thunderous nights and wondrous fights,
    Playing beneath the hood of this vast engine of life,
    Circling in perfect revolutions, seemingly effortless and free,
    And behind all this,
      It's still constant work, pain, and uncertainty.
  

    Future things are secret things, they belong to the Lord,
    So we surrender what we cannot carry and sheathe the sword.
    We can put up a good fight every single day,
    And still let it go, accepting all in the grand sway.
    It's life, and I am grateful for all the dear gifts,
    For the endless ride, the chaos, the wonder, and bliss.
  

Zhen Bin Pan

2026

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