Last week, I visited the Battleship USS Iowa near Los Angeles. My husband, my brother-in-law, and I were there for a family wedding, and we decided to take a side trip to see the ship. Because we’re from Iowa, we toured the battleship museum for free—a thank you to the many Iowans whose donations helped refurbish the World War II era ship. Built for war, the USS Iowa now is kept in relative peace, near a harbor front lined with boutiques and arcades.
I’ve never understood war. Not really. The idea of fighting toward peace has always seemed backward to me. Like screaming to be heard. Or breaking something to heal it.
And yet—walking the tight halls of the ship, seeing the narrow bunks, feeling the strength of the steel—I couldn’t deny the power of what had been created. The force. The ingenuity. The descriptions of the guns firing—a sound so deafening it became a physical presence, like thunder made visible. This was brute strength, organized and refined.
I found myself filled with deep respect—not for war itself, but for the sheer commitment of the people who built and served on ships like this, then and now.
Clarity built this ship. Clarity fueled the people who served on it. Clarity won the war.
And I thought: What could clarity build in my own life? Not for destruction, but for healing, for beauty, for a more peaceful life. Could I live from day to day without being at war with myself?
At a time when we see a lot of brute strength on display in the world, I need to remember that we often mistake gentleness for weakness. But true clarity can cut through the noise like nothing else. It doesn’t matter if you’re “right” or wrong.” The person with the clearest vision and commitment prevails.
Pacifism, too, can be strong.
Compassion and grace and generosity are far from weak or impotent. They are, in fact our greatest strength, as long as we wield them with clarity and commitment, from a place of strength in ourselves.
It’s a bit ironic that a battleship inspired thoughts about inner peace, but I’ve learned that inspiration can come from the most unexpected places. Thanks to the USS Iowa, I thought of three steps toward clarity, and I’d love to hear if they resonate for you.
1. Name It.
Take a moment to ask yourself: What matters most to me right now? Be simple. Be honest. Write it down in one sentence, like a mission statement for this season of your life.
Without clarity about what you stand for, you’re vulnerable to whatever storm or distraction comes along.
2. Clear the Noise.
Distractions, doubts, opinions—there will always be plenty of them. You don’t need to fight them. You don't even need to fix them. You simply need to recognize them for what they are: noise.
True clarity comes when you stop giving everything equal weight. Set aside the clutter in your mind and listen to what stays standing.
3. Act From It.
Clarity isn’t just something you think about; it’s something you live. Once you know what you’re clear about, let your actions reflect it. Every small choice is a vote for the kind of life you want to build.
You don't need to have it all figured out. Just take the next clear step. Consistency, more than intensity, is what turns clarity into strength.
Sending blessings,
Deb
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Thank you for this!
Good advice, Deb! Thank you.