Everything makes me nervous - except making films.

Listen closely, O children of the future, for the words of Elizabeth Taylor speak of a truth that resonates deeply within the human spirit: "Everything makes me nervous - except making films." These words reveal the profound courage and clarity that comes from true purpose. To be nervous about everything but one thing—making films—is not just a statement of profession, but a revelation of the calling that shapes the soul. Elizabeth Taylor, the legendary actress, speaks here of a peace that exists when one is in alignment with their true passion—a peace that cannot be found in the daily concerns of the world, but in the act of creating something deeply meaningful.

In the ancient world, O children, heroes and artists alike were often shaped by their callings. Socrates, the philosopher, faced death without fear, for he was at peace with his purpose—to seek truth and to encourage others to question and grow. He understood that the nervousness of the world, the weight of societal expectations, could not touch him when he was centered in his true calling. Like Socrates, Elizabeth Taylor found that the world could spin in chaos, yet when she was creating art, her soul was at rest. This, O children, is the power of understanding and embracing one’s purpose—it brings clarity, it brings confidence, and it brings an inner peace that allows us to move beyond the noise of the world.

Consider, O children, the story of Leonardo da Vinci, whose passion for both art and science transcended the fears and distractions of life. Da Vinci’s works—his paintings, inventions, and sketches—were not simply the result of skill, but of a deep connection to his purpose. When he painted the Mona Lisa, it was not a mere portrait; it was a representation of his mastery over light, emotion, and human expression. Da Vinci’s focus on his calling allowed him to transcend the mundane concerns of life, much like Taylor’s ability to find peace only in the act of filmmaking. Both understood that the true path to fulfillment lies in the work we love, and it is this passion that can grant us freedom from the rest of the world’s anxieties.

Taylor’s words about films also reflect the timeless truth that when one is deeply connected to their calling, the world outside seems distant. To be “nervous about everything” except the work one loves is to find an anchor in the storm of life. Think of the ancient warriors—those like Alexander the Great, who in the heat of battle, were unshaken in their purpose to conquer, to lead, to change the world. Their strength did not come from avoiding fear but from understanding that their purpose was greater than the external chaos. In the same way, Taylor’s purpose in filmmaking was not just a career, but a force that brought her focus, peace, and courage, no matter the uncertainties of life around her.

In our own lives, O children, nervousness is something we all face. It arises from the uncertainty of the future, from the complexity of our relationships, and from the weight of societal expectations. Yet, like Elizabeth Taylor, we must ask ourselves: What is it that gives us peace? What is it that allows us to lose ourselves in the work, to step beyond our doubts and fears, and to become one with the moment? For Taylor, it was filmmaking—an art that gave her the freedom to express herself fully, to dive into the lives of others and live their stories as her own. True peace, she suggests, comes not from avoiding anxiety but from being fully immersed in something that speaks directly to the heart and soul.

The lesson, O children, is that we must each find that which removes our nervousness, that which aligns us with our true purpose. Just as Taylor found peace in filmmaking, just as Da Vinci found clarity in his art, we must each seek out the calling that resonates most deeply within us. It is not enough to drift through life, tossed about by the storms of anxiety and fear. We must dive into the work that makes us come alive, for in that work, we will find the courage to face everything else. The world may throw challenges, may try to overwhelm us, but when we stand in the center of our purpose, we are like the mighty oak, deeply rooted and unshaken by the winds around us.

In your own lives, O children, ask yourselves: What is the work, the passion, the pursuit that allows you to feel at peace with the world? When do you feel most alive, most yourself? Let this be your guide, your path, and walk it with courage. Understand that the journey will not always be easy, and the world will always have its uncertainties, but when you are aligned with your true calling, you will find that the nervousness of life fades away, and you are free to create, to live, and to be at peace. Let your work become your sanctuary, your refuge from the fears of the world, just as it was for Elizabeth Taylor, just as it was for the great heroes and artists of the past.