Webster’s Dictionary defines serenity as the state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled. An oasis, if you will, in a sea of troubled waters. In times of trouble, we yearn for serenity, even when the desert of live gives us a false sense the oasis is over the next dune. We are taught to believe that goodness is around every corner. It keeps us going, keeps us alive.
Without serenity, we are lost in a desert of our own making, just wanderers hoping for the next nourishment life can provide.
But there’s another definition, the one from Old French, that is rarely recognized: a title given to a reigning prince or dignitary. From Latin, we know this word originally meant calm or fair, akin to complexion and appearance and less the emotional connotation we know today.
As authors, and even people in general, we always strive for such a point, where turmoil and peace meet and the calamity of daily life falls by the way side. Where we leave the desert and things are wonderful, things are serene.
But what if we were to grab life by the horns, so to speak, and become the ruler of our destiny, like the definition suggests? Create the serenity we require to live another day?
If you’re like me and questioning this whole destiny thing, maybe wondering if that’s best left to the pages of a fantasy novel, remember that destiny is not given to heroes that never leave their castle. It is rewarded to warriors, to slaves, to the downtrodden, who have the faith to leave their safety and comfort of home.
Serenity doesn’t come to us. We have to find it.
Where do you find serenity?
Rebekah Dodson 
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