Soulful Sundays: Return
- Blake Storey
- 8 minutes ago
- 2 min read
"Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes." -Carl Jung

On September 9, 1965, Commander James Stockdale was shot down while flying a mission over North Vietnam. He was immediately captured by enemy forces, marking the beginning of a seven-and-a-half-year ordeal as a prisoner of war in one of the most infamous Vietcong prisons—the Hanoi Hilton. Stockdale was routinely beaten, tortured, denied food and medical care, and paraded in front of angry mobs, yet his spirit remained unbroken. After the war, he returned home and was awarded the Medal of Honor. He later wrote extensively about his experience, articulating what came to be known as the Stockdale Paradox:
"You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end—which you can never afford to lose—with the discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be."
Stockdale observed that his fellow POWs tended to escape their fate in one of two ways: either by cooperating with the enemy to secure temporary relief, or by succumbing to despair and losing the will to live altogether. He was made of different stuff. Grounded in Stoic philosophy, he chose to focus on winning the battle within rather than dwelling on external circumstances—and he inspired his fellow prisoners to do the same.
Ironically, he noted that it was often the optimists who broke first under the weight of captivity. They placed their faith in specific outcomes—"we'll be out by Christmas," "by Easter," "by the Fourth of July"—and when those moments passed unmet, they experienced repeated psychological collapse. Lacking a tether to reality, their optimism became a trap. Stockdale, by contrast, took solace in the only two things he could truly control: his attitude and his actions in the immediate situation. On multiple occasions, he even beat himself preemptively to ensure the Vietcong could not claim a propaganda victory.
The 24th hexagram of the I Ching is known as the “Turning Point,” or the “Return to the Path.” It is symbolized by the return of light after the winter solstice, or the stillness that follows the darkest hour of night. Return is a delicate and powerful moment—one that requires full attention, lest we fall back into old patterns. If right action can be maintained, disaster is averted. But if pride or the hunger for influence overtakes us, the outcome may turn unfavorable. Return unfolds in its own time; our task is to adopt the correct posture and wait. Transformation is not made in leaps, but in small steps repeated over time. When we lose our way, we must remember to return to doing what is right.
The lesson is simple, but not easy. If we can practice it in ordinary moments, it becomes second nature in times of crisis. Stoic philosophy echoes the wisdom of the I Ching: both emphasize right action, internal mastery, and faith in a deeper order that persists through chaos. It worked for Stockdale—and it can work for us. No matter how bad things become, there is always a pathway appropriate to the moment that can begin the return to balance. This is not blind optimism. It is grounded, courageous determination in the face of hard truth.