One Day Closer: 

Peace, Power, and Prosperity — No Matter What

It's four a.m.

The village lights flicker below me — small, scattered constellations pressed into the dark mountainside. The electricity is on. Good. It's not a given here. I feel a quiet surge of gratitude for something I rarely notice until it's gone.

The coffee pot burbles and gurgles behind me, coaxing out a slow, fragrant stream of black, liquid gold — geisha coffee, grown right here in the highlands.

Not even the birds are awake.

Outside, Simon, the guard dog, sleeps – snoring softly and unconcerned. The only thought that passes through my mind is a brief awareness — it's scorpion season. A flicker of curiosity about what moves unseen in the dark.

And even that feels…neutral.

Mostly, I feel peaceful. But it wasn't always this way.

____________________

In March of 2020, I flew to Panama to help my father travel home after a series of vertebrae fractures. I remember the plane — people wiping their seats and tray tables with alcohol wipes, a quiet collective anxiety humming just below the surface. I had read about a new virus making its way around the world. I accepted an alcohol wipe and cleaned my area.

We landed and all seemed okay. My father and I started sorting out things to pack for our flight home.

A week later, the country locked down – no flights in, no flights out.

What I thought would be a brief trip turned into months. My visa expired. I became an illegal alien in a foreign country where I spoke enough Spanish to get into trouble, but not out. My husband was thousands of miles away — his voice the one steady thing I could count on, twice a day, through a phone screen.

In Panama, in an effort to reduce the transmission of COVID, men and women were only allowed to leave their homes on opposite days — two hours at a time — just for essentials. You had to get everything done in that window or risk a heavy fine and having your vehicle impounded.

Every errand became a calculation. Every day a serious measurement of what was needed to survive.

Scorpions found their way inside the house. New business ideas failed. My energy waned.

I tried everything I knew.

I stayed informed. I prepared. I strategized. I white-knuckled my way through each day convinced that if I just stayed vigilant enough, I could get ahead of what was coming.

The harder I grasped for control, the further peace moved from me. Turns out that being a vigilante is hard work, and I became exhausted.

____________________

Then something shifted.

Not the circumstances. Those stayed exactly as impossible as they were.

But in the middle of all of it, my husband and I had a simple ritual. At the end of each call, we would raise one finger and say:

One day closer.

No guarantees. No timeline.

But something in me recognized: This…changes everything.

Not because it solved anything, but because it reminded me of something I knew.

Not control. Not certainty.

But this:

I don't need to control the future to be steady in the present. Peace comes from how I meet this moment — not from fixing what I can't.

So I stopped trying to control what I couldn't, and I returned to living from the inside out.

Not perfectly. Not all at once. But moment by moment:

I started feeling my body instead of chasing the next update. I noticed the pull to react…and chose how to respond instead, letting uncertainty exist without abandoning myself.

This is where power lives — not in controlling what happens, but in claiming how we meet it. Not reaction. Response. That distinction changed everything.

The conditions didn't change.

But my relationship to them did.

And something unexpected happened.

In the middle of restriction…I felt spacious. In the middle of uncertainty…I felt clear. In the middle of fear…I felt grounded.

Not because the world became safe.

But because I stopped leaving myself in response to it.

And from that steadiness — quietly, unexpectedly — something new began to emerge.

Not the prosperity I had been chasing.

Something deeper than that.

A sense of sufficiency. Of rightness. Of being exactly where I needed to be, doing exactly what I was meant to do — even here, even now.

Peace wasn't something I found out there. Power wasn't something I had to force. Prosperity wasn't something I had to chase.

They were already present — waiting on the other side of my own stillness.

____________________

Panama was 2020.

But you don't have to go back five years to find the feelings of anxiety, powerlessness, and sense of poverty.

It's here. Right now.

In the headlines you can't stop reading. In the political noise that follows you into your morning before you've even had coffee. In the low hum of anxiety that has become so familiar you've stopped noticing it's there.

Somewhere right now a mother is pulling her child into a stairwell as the sky cracks open. Drones hum overhead. Someone is running. Someone is not fast enough.

This is not hypothetical. This is happening.

And even if your world is not exploding, your mind is often doing something very similar — through scanning, bracing, and the constant attempt to get ahead of something you cannot control.

You may even be telling yourself:

I just need to get through this season…then I'll rest. If I stay informed enough, I'll be okay.

I lived those thoughts.

They didn't work then. They aren't working now.

A quiet mind isn't built for perfect conditions.

It's built for this moment — the one where everything in you wants to contract.

And instead — you choose to not abandon yourself.

You remember that peace is not the absence of danger.

It is the ability to stay present without collapsing into fear or grasping for control.

____________________

Here's what I know about you.

There is something in you that has been trying to get your attention for a long time.

It started as a whisper.

A quiet knowing that there was a different way to live. A deeper ground to stand on. A truer version of yourself waiting on the other side of all this noise.

But you stay busy, you stay informed, and you push through.

Until...that whisper becomes a moan, then a groan. And, if you're really honest — it's been shrieking like a wailing banshee.

That is not simple restlessness or dissatisfaction. They're symptoms of your intrinsic power calling you home.

My work is helping people reclaim that power — and learn to live from it. Not someday. Not when things settle down. Now. Here. Inside whatever is.

Because when you answer that call — really answer it — something shifts.

Not just peace. Though that comes. Not just clarity. Though that comes too.

A prosperity that doesn't depend on circumstances. A power that doesn't require control. A life that is finally, unmistakably, yours.

That is A Deeper Calling.

And it begins with one evening, one conversation, one simple choice to stop circling what you know and start living it.

On May 4th, I'm hosting a free live webinar:

One Day Closer: Peace, Power, and Prosperity — No Matter What

One evening. Real teaching. A practice you can use immediately. And an honest conversation about what it means to finally answer the call.

You are, one day closer.

Reserve your spot here.

With you in this, 

Tammy