Live in the Calm

Journaling in the midst of the Sawtooth Mountains.

This year, I have been doing something truly life changing. I made it my main priority each day to lower my cortisol, to step out of constant stress and live in calm. I have been regulating my nervous system and setting boundaries to protect my peace.

Last year, I distanced myself from people who brought me a lot of stress. Feeling the difference that made gave me pause and encouraged me to take more steps in that direction.

As women, we often live in a perpetual fight or flight mode because our plates are overflowing. We are constantly doing for everyone else, rarely receiving acknowledgment for the toll it takes on our nervous systems.

This is not something that can be condensed to a simple Instagram post or a few breathing exercises. It has been an intense spiritual experience, one that is teaching me my place in the universe and showing me how our culture constantly pulls us away from the present moment. We are pushed to endlessly prepare for the future, distracted by the past, and rarely invited to just be here, now.

“As women, we often live in a perpetual fight or flight mode because our plates are overflowing. We are constantly doing for everyone else, rarely receiving acknowledgment for the toll it takes on our nervous systems.”

I am only just dipping my toes into this work, and already I can feel how deep it goes. It is humbling to realize that some of these practices feel like home, like I have always known them, and I am simply remembering. Remembering what it feels like to protect my energy. To connect with people who vibrate at a higher frequency. To live in the now.

In the calm, I have discovered some pretty amazing things about myself. One of them is that I need to get back to what I have always wanted to do, and stop being so distracted by the thing I happen to be successful in.

I was raised to believe my life’s purpose was to raise a family, be a wife, and exist in service to someone else. I now see what a terrible lie that was. You can love your roles without letting them completely define your identity. I am not raising my daughters to be mothers. I am raising them to be women, and if they choose motherhood, I hope it is a wonderful and fulfilling experience for them and their children.

By focusing completely on outside influences, I could never really have control of my own nervous system. I was being pulled constantly, and I felt a strange guilt whenever I looked for space and calm. I now see that guilt for what it is—intentional. It is designed to keep us controlled, to keep us moving and working. The idea that “you can rest when you’re dead” is a tool used by those who want to take everything you have to give, whether it’s companies that expect work to be the center of your life, family members who see you only for what you can provide, or organizations that assign you to serve in the name of God no matter how burnt out, exhausted, or in need of space you are. But it is in the pauses that we come back to ourselves.

There is a reason so many people left relationships, marriages, jobs, and even religions during Covid. It was a universal forced pause, and while it was horrible in so many ways, it shifted the trajectory for so many of us. That was remarkable.

Growing up in a high demand religion taught me to always look ahead to some arbitrary moment in the future. Over time, I started to see how much of my life had been spent in service to an organization’s vision of that future, rather than fully living my own life in the present. I began to realize that you can still be an incredibly good person, love deeply, look forward to the future, and stay grounded in the now, without forfeiting your life to any group or system.

Now I hold on to each moment as precious. I stay vigilant for narcissists and those who would use me. I distance myself mentally from minor inconveniences and refuse to let them shift the chemistry in my body. I protect my peace through boundaries, daily practices, slow coffees, and long walks—things that keep me grounded even when life is stressful. I let myself be open to intense spiritual experiences outside of a church building.

I allow myself to feel the discomfort of realizing how little I truly know of the universe. And I look forward with curiosity, asking myself; what is it I still need to learn?

What am I here to discover?

“I protect my peace through boundaries, daily practices, slow coffees, and long walks—things that keep me grounded even when life is stressful.”