When I was 8 years old, I pushed a little patch boat into the Pacific Island. The sail was old, the wood was also old, and the salt stung my eyes. Within the safety of the reef, I could hear the waves breaking against the hole.Slow, steady, ancient. And in that stillness, I felt something bigger than me. The ocean was endless.I didn't know it then, but I was starting to learn what my ancestors knew. That courage doesn't come from what you own, but from what you remember. We live in a world that tells us suc ...