Serenity and the Power of Stillness

Serenity is about the peacefulness in life that is hard to stand still for it to happen. My serenity comes from long, hot showers ( especially in winter). It relaxes me to the point that I don’t want to get out of the shower. That’s my quiet space in real time.

If you’re like me, you’ve probably tried to “relax” while still gripping your phone like a life raft. You sit down, swear you’ll rest, and then your brain starts sprinting.

Groceries. That text you forgot to answer. The look on someone’s face when you said the wrong thing. It’s noisy in there.

For a long time, I thought serenity was something you either had or you didn’t, like a personality trait.

However, the older I get, the more I see serenity as a calm, steady feeling inside that comes and goes, because life keeps happening. Stillness is one of the simplest ways I know to invite it back.

And just so we’re clear, this isn’t about “emptying your mind.” It’s about pausing long enough to notice what’s happening, so you can choose your next step instead of being yanked around by the moment.

“When you do the right thing, you get the feeling of peace and serenity associated with it. Do it again and again.”― Roy T. Bennett

What Serenity Really Means, and Why Stillness Helps You Find It

Serenity isn’t numbness. It’s not shutting down, going blank, or pretending you don’t care. To me, serenity feels like calm plus clarity. My feelings are still there, but they stop driving the car.

Stress does the opposite. When I’m stressed, my body acts like danger is everywhere. My shoulders creep up. My jaw tightens. And, my breath gets shallow. Even if nothing is “wrong,” my system stays on high alert, like a smoke alarm that’s too sensitive.

Stillness sends a different signal. It tells the body, little by little, “We’re safe enough right now.” That doesn’t erase problems, but it changes how you meet them. You stop swinging at every thought like it’s a threat.

Recent research lines up with what many of us feel in practice. Short daily meditation has been linked with better focus and stronger emotional control, especially when it’s done consistently over weeks.

In plain terms, people often get a little better at staying with what’s in front of them, and a little less likely to snap or spiral.

Researchers also connect meditation with changes in parts of the brain tied to stress and memory, including the amygdala (often described as a fear and stress hub) and the hippocampus (often tied to memory and emotional balance).

You don’t need to memorize brain words to benefit from the idea, stillness can help your nervous system learn a new default.

If you like reading the research side, this article on serenity as a key part of psychological well-being puts language to something many people quietly sense, serenity can be a process, not a prize you win.

Stillness is not doing nothing, it is choosing one thing

Stillness isn’t avoidance. Avoidance is when I disappear so I don’t have to feel. Stillness is when I stay, but I choose one small anchor so I don’t get swept away.

Here are a few “one thing” options that work even on messy days:

Breath: Feel the air move in and out, nothing fancy.
Sounds in the room: A heater hum, a distant car, a clock tick.
A candle flame: Watch it move, then come back when your mind wanders.
A simple body scan: Notice forehead, jaw, shoulders, hands, then feet.

If you’re new, start with 2 minutes. Really. Two minutes teaches your brain the doorway exists. Then, once that feels normal, add a minute at a time.

For a broader look at stillness-focused practice, you might also like this overview of research on Stillness Meditation, especially if you’re curious how it compares with other methods.

Why your mind fights stillness at first

When you first try to be still, the mind often throws a small tantrum. You’ll feel restless. You’ll feel bored. Or, you’ll suddenly need to check your phone, urgently, like the screen is a medical device.

That doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. It means you’re noticing a habit. A busy mind is often just a well-practiced loop, scanning for problems, replaying old scenes, planning new ones.

Here’s the reframe that saved me: noticing thoughts is progress. The moment you realize “I’m thinking,” you’re already more awake than you were five seconds ago.

A self-talk line that helps when you drift is this: “I can come back to my breath.” Not “I should,” not “I failed,” just “I can.”

“I will be calm. I will be mistress of myself.”― Jane Austen

How to Practice Stillness for Serenity in a Busy Day

You don’t need special music, perfect silence, or a new personality. First, you need a small pocket of time.

Next, you need a plan for what to do when your mind wanders, because it will. Then, you need a gentle way to return, again and again, without turning the practice into a punishment.

Start with posture that supports you. Sit in a chair or on the edge of your bed. Place both feet on the floor if you can.

Meanwhile, let your hands rest on your thighs or in your lap. Keep your back tall but not stiff, because strain turns stillness into another chore.

Now set your gaze. You can close your eyes, or you can lower them toward one spot. If closing your eyes feels unsafe or too intense, keep them open. Either way, soften your face. Next, drop your shoulders one notch, like you’re taking off a heavy backpack.

Then breathe like you’re trying to calm a child, slow, steady, and kind. You don’t need deep breaths that make you dizzy. Instead, aim for a smooth inhale and a longer exhale, because longer exhales often tell the body to settle.

Distraction will show up. So, when it does, name it gently. “Thinking.” “Planning.” “Worry.” Then return to your anchor. If you get pulled away ten times, you return ten times. That’s not failure, that’s the practice.

If you want some extra motivation for why quiet helps, this piece on why silence and stillness support healing explains the idea in everyday language, and it matches what many people feel after even a few minutes.

The 5 minute stillness reset (simple steps)

Here’s a simple routine you can do almost anywhere. It’s short on purpose, so you’ll actually use it.

Set a timer for 5 minutes (or 2 minutes if that’s all you’ve got).
Sit or stand comfortably, then loosen your shoulders and unclench your jaw.
Breathe slowly, and let the exhale be a little longer than the inhale.
Choose one anchor, such as your breath at your nostrils or the rise and fall of your chest.
When distractions appear, name them softly, like “thought,” “sound,” or “urge.”
Return to the anchor, again and again, without arguing with your mind.
End with one small intention, for example, “I’ll speak slower,” or “I’ll do the next right thing.”

If sitting still feels impossible, try slow walking instead. First, set the timer. Next, walk at half speed. Then pay attention to your footsteps, heel, sole, toes. When you drift, come back to the feeling of contact with the floor.

Make it stick with tiny triggers and low pressure goals

Motivation comes and goes, so it helps to tie stillness to something that already happens. In other words, use tiny triggers.

Here are a few anchors that work in real life:

After brushing your teeth
Before opening email or messages
In the car, before you turn the key
Right after lunch, before you stand up

Set a goal that doesn’t require hero energy. For most people, 5 days a week is realistic. Also, keep it small enough that you won’t dread it.

Tracking can be simple. Put a check mark on a calendar, because seeing a streak builds trust with yourself. Consistency beats length. Five minutes done often will do more for serenity than thirty minutes done once, then abandoned with guilt.

If you want a science-informed take on why slowing down matters for stress, this article from the EU’s Horizon Magazine on the power of stillness to reduce stress offers helpful context without making it feel like homework.

Three Real Life Examples of Stillness Creating Serenity

Stillness sounds nice in theory. It’s harder when your day is sharp around the edges. So here are three moments where stillness changed the outcome for me or people close to me, not perfectly, but noticeably.

“Nothing is so aggravating as calmness.”― Mahatma Gandhi

Example 1: A 2 minute pause before a tough meeting

A friend told me she used to walk into tense meetings already braced for impact. Her jaw would lock, and her words would come out clipped. So she tried something small. First, she sat in her car for two minutes. Next, she relaxed her tongue from the roof of her mouth (she didn’t realize it was stuck there). Then she took five slow breaths and repeated one calm phrase: “Speak only what’s needed.”

After the meeting, she noticed she listened more, interrupted less, and didn’t snap when someone pushed back. The room didn’t magically become kind, but she stayed steadier.

Takeaway: “Pause, soften your jaw, then choose one calm phrase.”

Example 2: Stillness during family tension (responding instead of reacting)

One night, I felt anger rise fast during a family conflict. It was the familiar heat, the quick need to be “right.” Instead of firing off words I’d regret, I stepped into the hallway for 60 seconds.

I pressed both feet into the floor and silently named what was happening, “anger,” “hurt,” “fear.” Then I put one hand on my chest and exhaled slowly, like I was cooling a pan that was starting to smoke.

When I came back, my voice was softer. I set a boundary without insulting anyone. Later, I didn’t have to replay it with shame.

Takeaway: “Feel your feet, name the emotion, then lower your voice.”

Example 3: Stillness at night to ease racing thoughts and sleep better

I’ve had nights where my brain turns into a late-night talk show that never cuts to commercial. I’d scroll my phone, which only fed the noise. So I started a small ritual. First, I put the phone across the room.

Next, I took four slow breaths, letting the exhale drag out a bit. Then I did a quick body scan, forehead, eyes, jaw, shoulders, belly, legs, feet, and I tried to soften each area by one percent.

I didn’t “knock out” on command. Still, the loop loosened. I settled faster, and I stopped treating bedtime like a mental courtroom.

Takeaway: “Phone away, four slow breaths, then soften your body from head to feet.”

“Common man’s patience will bring him more happiness than common man’s power.”― Amit Kalantri

Sum It All Up

Serenity doesn’t usually arrive with fireworks. More often, it shows up like a quiet friend who sits beside you when you finally stop running.

Stillness is one of the simplest ways to invite that friend back. Not because you’ll do it perfectly, but because you’ll practice returning. You’ll notice you drift, then you’ll come back, and that’s where serenity grows.

Try a 7-day challenge: 5 minutes a day, or 2 minutes if that’s what your life can hold right now. Put a check mark on the days you show up, and let that be enough.

What would change in your relationships, your work, or your sleep if you paused before you reacted?

Cindee Murphy
“One voice who accepts serenity in each meditation I do.”

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