Do you ever feel like you're constantly doing something,
Or wanting to do something?
Like even when you sit down,
Your brain starts scanning for the next thing.
Maybe I should clean that,
Figure that thing out,
Make a plan.
And if you're listening to this,
You're probably already halfway out the door.
Not literally,
But mentally,
Emotionally,
Spiritually.
You were just about to open that other tab,
Reply to that other message,
Check that app,
Organize the drawer,
Start a side project,
Or maybe stop the war,
Save the world.
But first,
Snacks.
Yes,
I know.
You're not lazy,
You're not unmotivated.
You're just doing what all of us were trained to do.
Avoid stillness,
Like it's a trap.
Because in stillness,
Things come up,
Old feelings,
Unfinished sentences,
That weird sadness you thought expired in 2016,
The ache,
The doubt,
The ache of doubt.
So what do we do?
We run.
Sometimes,
It looks like productivity,
Sometimes it looks like passion,
Sometimes it even looks like self-care,
But if you zoom in,
You'll notice the energy underneath.
It's not peace,
It's panic wearing a wellness robe,
It's fear pretending to be just busy,
It's your nervous system screaming,
Feelings incoming,
Abort,
Do something useful.
So here's my invitation,
Don't.
Don't do the useful thing,
Don't answer the ping,
Don't reach for your coping costume.
Instead,
Just sit,
Breathe,
And don't touch anything.
Let the itch arise,
Let the urge fire off,
Let your mind do its jazz solo.
And don't join in.
This is the practice.
Sit there,
In the eye of the storm,
No umbrella,
No defence,
Just awareness.
Let your breath be boring,
Let the moment be weird.
And you'll start to see beneath the noise,
There's something honest.
Something not dramatic,
Not urgent,
Just truth,
Sitting cross-legged,
Waiting for you to notice.
Alignment doesn't knock loudly,
It sits in silence and says,
I'll wait.
The truth is,
Distraction is just an untrained reaction.
But alignment is a conscious relationship,
To the moment,
To your breath,
To that little voice inside you that's been trying to speak without shouting.
So the next time the mind says,
Let's just do something real quick,
Pause and ask.
Is this medicine or just a fancy escape?
Am I running or remembering?
And if you don't know the answer,
Sit,
Breathe,
And for once in your life,
Don't touch anything.
So what actually happens when you sit there and don't check out?
Well,
Things show up.
Sometimes it's silence,
Sometimes it's sadness.
Sometimes it's a sudden craving to organise your receipts from 2014.
But underneath the noise,
You might find a pang in your chest that says,
I'm lonely.
A flicker of memory you never gave time to grieve.
A weird anger at nothing in particular,
But it's real.
The voice that whispers,
You've abandoned yourself.
That's not weakness,
That's truth resurfacing.
That's your system saying,
Thank you for finally being quiet enough to hear me.
And if you're feeling anxious,
Maybe it's not anxiety.
Maybe it's your body rebooting after years of autopilot.
If you're feeling heavy,
Maybe it's grief that was never witnessed.
Feeling numb,
Maybe your soul has been trying to speak in whispers,
But you've only been listening to sirens.
These feelings aren't here to drown you.
They're here to introduce you to parts of you that were paused,
Suppressed,
Muted by coping.
They're not enemies,
They're messages.
And they only show up when they know you might finally stay.
Now listen,
I'm not saying this is always easy.
Sometimes sitting with it feels like holding a thunderstorm in your chest.
So when it gets too loud,
Try this.
Breathe into the body,
Not the story.
Don't ask,
Why do I feel this?
Ask,
Where do I feel this?
Put your hand on that place.
Not to fix it,
Just to say,
I'm here now.
And if it needs to cry,
Let it.
If it needs to shake,
Let it.
If it needs to just breathe and do nothing,
Perfect.
You're not breaking,
You're unblocking.
You're not spiraling,
You're settling dust that's been waiting years to land.
If you stay long enough,
Without touching the feeling,
Without turning it into content or strategy or solution,
You'll notice something shift.
A calm beneath the waves,
A knowing beneath the noise.
It may not come with fireworks,
But it comes with this strange,
Quiet sentence.
I didn't die,
I didn't need to fix this,
I just needed to feel it.
And from there,
Real movement happens.
Not reaction,
Not survival,
But alignment.
The kind that changes your entire trajectory,
Without ever leaving the room.
Just stay a little longer,
Not because you have to,
But because maybe,
For the first time,
You get to.
No pressure,
No performance,
No fixing.
Just breath,
Just presence,
Just this moment.
Undistracted,
Unedited,
And enough.
So let's seal this with a mantra.
I'm here,
I listen,
I return.
I'm here,
I listen,
I return.
And when you're ready to move again,
Let it come from truth,
Not tension.
Let it come from stillness,
Not survival.
Until then,
You're doing just fine.
Stay here as long as you like.
This moment belongs to you now.