A ship doesn’t sink because of the ocean. It sinks because of the water it lets inside. The ocean is always there and always larger than the ship; what keeps it afloat is the hull, not the size of the sea.
The mind is the same. Pressure, pain, and chaos are the ocean, and they aren’t optional for anyone. What sinks a person isn’t their presence but the thoughts let in unchecked once they arrive. The metaphor is worth keeping because it puts responsibility in the right place: you don’t control the storm, you control the seal.
The useful part is the last turn. A strong mind isn’t one that avoids the waves; avoidance is impossible, and pretending otherwise is its own kind of failure. It’s one that refuses to leak. It expects the water and does the work continuously. Composure isn’t a state you reach but a bailing you keep doing.