1. I Didnât Notice the Noise Until It Was Gone
It wasnât a dramatic silence.
Just a moment when no one needed me.
When no one was typing, pinging, calling, asking.
I could hear the refrigerator. My breath.
And for the first time all day,
I realizedâ
I wasnât holding my shoulders so high.
I wasnât clenching my jaw.
It was nothing special.
But it felt like a gift.
2. Stillness Feels Foreign, But Good
I used to think calm meant being lazy.
Like, if Iâm not pushing forward, Iâm wasting time.
But lately, Iâm learning that stillness isnât the absence of effort.
Itâs the space where effort can rest.
Where I can sit on the couch and not feel guilty.
Where I can stop scrolling and still feel connectedâto myself.
It still feels strange.
But itâs a strange Iâm beginning to like.
3. When Calm Isnât Happy, But Itâs Not Sad Either
Itâs just⊠quiet.
Not exciting. Not painful. Just still.
Like floating.
Like my thoughts stopped yelling at me.
And maybe itâs not joy.
But itâs not suffering either.
Itâs the space in between.
And honestly, it feels like peace.
4. I Thought I Had to Earn Rest
For a long time, I believed I had to work myself into exhaustion before I deserved to relax.
Like rest was something you had to buy with pain.
Now Iâm starting to see things differently.
Sometimes, you rest because your body asks you to.
Because your mind needs softness.
Because peace shouldnât be conditional.
And honestly, that realization is the most restful thing of all.
5. The World Kept SpinningâEven When I Slowed Down
I took a break.
Did less.
Answered later.
Paused the pressure.
And guess what?
Nothing fell apart.
People understood.
The sky didnât fall.
Sometimes, calm is just realizing:
You can stop running,
and still be okay.
