Equanimity is an Ongoing Practice
"You find PEACE not by rearranging the circumstances of your life, but by realizing who you are at the deepest level." ~Eckhart Tolle
As we round the corner into fall, I find myself reflecting on this transition and feeling grateful for all of the relationships and experiences that create a sense of calm in my life.
Lately, I’ve chosen the feeling of contentment as my anchor, turning inward to examine what it means to be at peace within. Setting myself free from the constraints of who I think I should be to fit society’s mold of a productive human.
I’ve realized that I use ‘busyness’ as a weapon against myself.
Busyness distracts me from the real work of looking within for answers. Confronting this truth about myself is uncomfortable, but I’m beginning to notice what weighs me down as I do. Introspection allows me to consciously address my limiting beliefs and shift my perspective to create a lighter, easier way of being.
Setting intentional time to be still within and connect with the physicality of what contentment feels like in my body helps me create a sensory roadmap.
As a child, I spent many blissful hours playing in my bedroom closet. The space was deep, with an odd L-shape, and followed the slope of the house roofline down one side.
It’s here I chose to create my own little world of wonder. I transformed it with creature comforts like my favorite blanket - the one with silk edges that felt so comforting as I ran it between my fingers - and a big, fuzzy floor pillow accompanied by several smaller, tasseled pillows. Perfect for melting into against the walls.
A carefully curated Mason jar sat at eye level on a built-in shelf, showcasing sparkly rocks, speckled stones, and colorful sea glass gathered during happy summer outings at Lake Michigan. The shelf above held my stash of grape Hubba Bubba, cherry Jolly Ranchers, and long-forgotten Halloween candy pushed to the back.
On the bottom shelf, I kept a supply of art paper and a box of colored pencils for drawing, and a watercolor set with an assortment of brushes. Glow-in-the-dark constellation and planetary stickers adorned the closet. Paper cranes dangled down from the ceiling, strung up using dental floss and thumbtacks.
My collection of books and records stood up on end and lined the perimeter of the closet floor. An extension cord snaked its way out of the closet to provide power to my robin’s-egg-blue 45 record player, a vintage lava lamp, and a hot plate for making tea with my lovely porcelain, bamboo-patterned teapot. My prized collection of 30’s and 40’s era hats, each stored in their own hatbox, came out for the occasion of tea time.
This closet became my sanctuary. It was a way to physically tuck myself into a space and be surrounded by things that filled me with joy, offered freedom of expression, and let me feel safe.
I could press pause on the outside world to be 100% me.
Fast forward four decades, and I still hold a soft spot for nooks, dens, and hideaway spots; extra points if it feels like open arms inviting you in for a warm hug. This sense of wellbeing is something the Danish call hygge—a deep feeling of contentment emanating from the inside out.
It’s slowly dawned on me that this longing to be immersed in physical places that nurture reflection, contemplation and creative exploration can be just as readily accessible through cultivating my mindscape.
Here’s the catch: I have to clear my mental space first to connect with this state of being.
Freeing my mind means consciously choosing to let go of unnecessary worry about things I can’t control. It also means turning off the outside noise by saying no to distractions, setting clear boundaries around “me time,” getting curious about what I feel and why, and tapping into my intuition.
I have found breathwork to be the best tool for moving the cruft in my mind and illuminating the path that helps me clarify what is most important in my life.
It’s lightning in a bottle.
The beautiful outcome of this method of self-discovery is that I get to lockstep with my internal rhythm—to determine serenity on my terms.
What does contentment look and feel like in your life?