I've made peace with insecurity... because there is no security

Hear, O travelers upon the uncertain road of life, the words of Dick Van Dyke, the actor whose laughter brightened the world, who confessed with disarming wisdom: “I've made peace with insecurity... because there is no security of any kind.” These words are not of despair but of liberation, not the cry of one defeated by uncertainty, but the song of one who has embraced life’s impermanence with grace. In them is a truth men resist yet cannot escape: that the illusion of security is but a fragile veil, and that true peace comes not from control, but from acceptance.

What is insecurity, but the constant reminder that the ground beneath us shifts, that fortune changes, that youth fades, that health falters, and that tomorrow is never promised? Most spend their days fleeing from this truth, building castles of wealth, storing treasures in vaults, clinging to status, planning as if eternity were theirs. Yet Van Dyke, with humor and humility, shows the higher way: to make peace with insecurity, to stop wrestling with shadows, and instead to walk freely through life, unburdened by the need for guarantees that will never come.

Consider the tale of Marcus Aurelius, emperor of Rome, who despite ruling the mightiest empire of his age, wrote in his meditations that all is fleeting—power, possessions, even the empire itself. He too learned that no fortress, no legion, no law can promise lasting security. His wisdom, like Van Dyke’s, was that peace comes not from securing what cannot be secured, but from training the mind to dwell calmly amidst uncertainty. For he who accepts insecurity can never be robbed of peace.

History has also shown us the folly of those who clung desperately to false security. Think of the great Titanic, proclaimed “unsinkable,” yet lying beneath the ocean after a single night’s voyage. Those aboard trusted too much in human invention, mistaking confidence for certainty. Their story is a reminder that the search for absolute safety is vanity. Life is not made safe by ships, banks, armies, or promises—it is made meaningful by courage, resilience, and the ability to dance even when the earth trembles.

O children of tomorrow, learn this truth: freedom begins when you release the chains of false security. When you cling to what you cannot control, you live in fear. When you embrace uncertainty, you live in peace. To make peace with insecurity is not to abandon responsibility, but to walk wisely, knowing that all things pass, and that joy is found not in permanence but in presence. The wise do not pray for certainty, but for strength; they do not demand guarantees, but cultivate resilience.

The lesson is radiant: you cannot control the storm, but you can learn to sail. You cannot halt time, but you can cherish each hour it grants. You cannot promise tomorrow, but you can live today with fullness of heart. This is the meaning of Van Dyke’s words: when you embrace insecurity, you are no longer its prisoner. Instead, you become its master, living with laughter, humility, and courage in the face of life’s shifting tides.

Practical action lies here: when anxiety rises, do not seek to silence it by building more walls of control. Instead, breathe deeply and remember: life has never been secure, and yet life has always continued. Focus not on the illusion of permanence, but on the beauty of the present. Invest not in guarantees, but in gratitude, in love, in experiences that no storm can erase. Teach your heart to say: “I do not need security to live fully.” In this way, insecurity becomes not a threat, but a teacher.

So let the words of Dick Van Dyke echo across the years: “There is no security of any kind.” Take them not as a curse, but as a blessing. For when you accept this truth, you are free to live with open hands, to laugh without fear, to love without calculation. And in that freedom lies the truest peace a human soul can ever know.