As a child, I ran, as children do, to the comfort and security of my mother during moments of fear and distress. The years have passed and the time of seeking solace in my mother’s arms has long since ended, though the fears and burdens have grown greater. The last few months have been particularly disappointing and I have felt the stings and blows of personal and professional defeats. And so I did what anyone must do to recover myself: I returned to the place I love most. I returned to Maine. And on Sunday afternoon, on a whim, I purchased a $4.10 ticket and boarded the 2:15 ferry to Peaks Island, where I walked the beaches in perfect solitude and gazed upon the most golden tides. Two years before, I stood upon the same beach, skipping smooth stones across the water with two dear friends - neither of whom I know today. And I reflected on recurring lessons: how life is lived in a constant state of struggle and change. And how true happiness, like peace, is a fleeting thing, that shines like the sun, only to be lost beneath the dark horizon.