Calm is an illusion. Like a four letter word it is forbidden from normal life. It gets pushed aside by the idea that we must chase two important persutes, but after we go after the fluttering time waster on the side path. All to the tune of there is something we've missed. Busy is atainable. Calm . . .
Calm isn't anywhere. Not even in the seemingly calm surface of a lake. Below it's pasive expression there are depts teeming with activity and life. Even the surface has waves, constantly lapping at passers by as if inviting to share their problems if you stop long enough to listen.
Only by diving in can we escape. In the dark there is a resemblance of calm. Amid of the swirls and depths of life. The eye if the storm. Even then the pressure of air and noise roar around. Only will draws us back to face the fray.
Oooh, I like this! The water metaphor fit your musings perfectly. Very reflective.
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