There is the calm before the storm, the purple haze of gloom beyond the horizon. And then, without warning, it attacks like a lion after its prey. Without warning, it swarms in like an army of locusts, devouring anything and everything in its wake. But you see in the distance, amidst the relentless storm, a man as serene as the sea at dawn. He doesn’t quiver or shake when the storm hits, neither does he crumble in fear. He faces the storm head-on; no, in fact, he becomes one with it. He plays along with it as if he has complete mastery over it. No storm of anxiety or tempest of life can overcome him. As the terror consumes all that lies around him, he is left completely unscathed. The storm is no match for him, and he does not let himself be defeated by its brutality.