Stillness in Motion

Last week in our #MyPeacein50 series, we explored how our bodies don’t just store trauma — they store safety, too. We revisited the simple truth that peace leaves a mark. And when we tune into it — through memory, movement, or presence — we can anchor ourselves, even in the storms.

This week, we’re taking that anchoring idea one step further:

How do we find stillness when we’re in motion? When life is anything but calm?

The Chaos We Carry

The past few weeks have been a lot for me. A swirl of loss and family stress, work deadlines, and emotional heaviness. I won’t go into all the details, but let’s just say: peace wasn’t exactly easy to come by. There were days I felt like I was spinning in place — answering texts, navigating difficult conversations, managing expectations, showing up for others while barely checking in with myself (and then feeling frustrated that I didn’t check-in with myself when I needed it the most).

Stillness felt like a luxury I couldn’t afford. Or worse — something I should be able to reach but kept failing to find. And yet — somewhere in the in-between — I began to notice the smallest cracks of quiet. In the shower. In a deep exhale between meetings. In the second before I picked up the phone. It wasn’t much. But it was something.

What Is Stillness, Really?

Stillness isn’t about being physically still. It’s about what happens inside of us. A slowing. A softening. A brief moment where we stop clenching, striving, or problem-solving. It’s the pause between breaths. The gentle exhale. The way your mind goes quiet — even for a few seconds — when you hear a favorite song or close your eyes and feel the sun on your face.

Stillness isn’t absence — it’s presence.

And you don’t need a silent retreat or a meditation cushion to access it. You can find stillness in the movement — if you learn to look for it.

Myths That Get in the Way

Before we dive into the how, let’s name what gets in the way of finding stillness:

1. Belief that stillness requires solitude.
   While solitude can support stillness, it isn’t required. Stillness is internal. You can feel still in a crowd, at work, or while doing the dishes.
2. Expectation that it must be long to be meaningful.
   You don’t need 30 minutes. Even 30 seconds of stillness — if fully embodied — can shift your nervous system.
3. Shame about not doing it right.
   You’re not broken if it’s hard to settle. Most of us live in bodies that are constantly on alert. Stillness is a practice, not a performance.

Stillness Practices for Stressful Times

Here are some of the tools I’ve been reaching for lately — small, simple ways I’ve found stillness while moving through real life:

1. The Shower Sigh

This one’s easy. Every time I step into the shower, I take one long, audible exhale. Sometimes with a little vocal tone. It doesn’t solve everything, but it interrupts my tension. It’s a mini reset.

Try it: As warm water hits your back, let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

2. Mindful Transitions

Instead of rushing from one task to the next, I pause for 10 seconds in between. Before sending the next email. Before opening a new tab. Before walking into another room. It’s a literal moment to re-enter my body.

Try it: Build a 10-second breath pause into transitions — from work to home, screen to sleep, conversation to solitude.

3. One-Song Stillness

I started playing a single song each day where I don’t multitask. No emails. No scrolling. Just sitting, swaying, or walking slowly while listening.

This week’s pick? “Everything in Its Right Place” by Radiohead. It’s haunting and layered and just disorienting enough to bring me right back to my body.

Try it: Let one song — just one — be your soundtrack to slowing down.

4. Hands on Heart

When stress peaks, I place one hand on my heart, one on my belly. I say nothing. I just notice. The rise and fall. The temperature of my skin. The contact of my palm.

Try it: Place your hands. Let your body know you’re listening.

5. Micro-Body Check-In

This one is adapted from somatic practices. I ask myself three questions throughout the day:

• What’s happening in my body?
• What do I need right now?
• Can I offer myself 1% more ease?

Try it: Set a reminder to check in — not to fix, but to feel.

6. Stillness in Motion — Literally

Sometimes, stillness comes through movement. A slow walk. Gentle stretching. Dancing with no choreography. There’s a rhythm your body knows — a pace it longs to return to. Movement can help you find it again.

Try it: Move with no goal other than to meet your body where it is.

When Stillness Feels Inaccessible

There may be days when no matter how hard you try, you simply can’t find the quiet. That’s okay. Stillness doesn’t have to feel blissful. Sometimes it feels uncomfortable, even agitating, before it softens. If you notice restlessness or resistance, try offering yourself compassion instead of judgment.

You’re doing something new. Of course it feels unfamiliar. Trust that the body is learning, even when it doesn’t feel easy. You can even try journaling about what gets in the way:

• What makes stillness feel unsafe?
• What would I need to feel safe pausing?
• Where do I notice the most tension — and what helps it soften?

Awareness is a step toward presence. Naming what feels hard makes space for something different.

Remember: You Deserve This

You don’t have to earn stillness. You don’t need to wait for the hard stuff to pass. Stillness isn’t a reward — it’s a right. Even in chaos, even in grief, even in the middle of that impossible deadline or emotional conversation — your nervous system deserves a breath. A pause. A thread of quiet. And the more you practice these micro-stillnesses, the more your body begins to trust them.

A Note on Nervous System Rhythms

When we’re under chronic stress, our nervous system gets stuck in a loop. High alert becomes the norm. Stillness can feel foreign, even threatening. That’s why these practices are small — intentionally so.

We’re not trying to force rest. We’re inviting it. Your body knows how to settle. It just might need reminders. Even a few seconds of grounding can begin to tone the vagus nerve — the communication superhighway between brain and body. The more we activate our parasympathetic system, the easier it becomes to return to calm.

So be gentle with yourself. You’re not failing if your mind wanders or your chest stays tight. That’s part of the process. Each time you notice, you’re practicing stillness.

Practice This Week

This week, I’m returning to these questions each day:

• What’s one moment I can pause today?
• Where do I feel a whisper of stillness?
• Can I trust it — even just for a breath?

You might journal your answers. Or just notice them in real time. And if you want a more structured practice, try this:

Five-Minute Stillness Practice:

1. Sit or lie down somewhere quiet-ish.
2. Set a timer for 5 minutes.
3. Place one hand on your chest, one on your belly.
4. Breathe naturally. No need to control it.
5. Each time your mind wanders, gently return to sensation — breath, skin, heartbeat.

That’s it. No pressure. Just presence.

From This Week to Next

This week, we practiced finding stillness in the mess, the motion, the in-between. Next week, we’ll look at what it means to start your day with intention and care.

The next post is called “Mindful Morning Practice.” It’s about easing into the day with practices that regulate your nervous system before the world makes demands of you. Think breath, light, intention — not urgency.

But for now, let this week be about softening into what is. About giving yourself moments of grace — even when life doesn’t slow down.

The Weekly Flow

Here’s what this week looks like in the #MyPeacein50 rhythm:

• Monday → This blog goes live
• Tuesday–Thursday → Reflections, practices, and song-based stillness prompts on Instagram, LinkedIn, and Facebook
• Friday → I’ll post a video about what stillness in motion actually looked like for me — probably imperfect, but real

You’re invited to:

• Pause wherever you are
• Try just one of the practices above
• Share your still moment using #MyPeacein50
• Or download the free guide “5 Steps to Protect Your Peace” for more nervous system support

What I’m Loving This Week

• Sound: The distant rumble of a train — grounding, rhythmic, a reminder that everything moves.
• Practice: Laying on the floor for five minutes at the end of the day — no goals, just grounding.
• Tool: Timer on my phone. Seriously. Five-minute pauses have changed the game.
• Quote: "Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you." — Anne Lamott
• Song: "Everything in Its Right Place" by Radiohead — layered, haunting, and unexpectedly calming.

Stay close to your breath this week. Stillness is never far away — even in motion.