Reflections in the Forties — Part 9 - The Power of Stillness

 For most of my life, I equated movement with progress. If I was busy, I felt productive. If my calendar was full, I felt relevant. Stillness, on the other hand, felt uncomfortable — even wasteful. 

But in my 40s, I’ve begun to understand the quiet power of stillness.

Stillness is not inactivity. It is intentional pause.

It’s the space between actions where clarity emerges. It’s in these pauses that we hear our own thoughts, notice our patterns, and recognise what truly matters. When life is constantly loud, important signals get drowned out. Earlier, I filled every gap — scrolling, planning, doing, achieving. Today, I try to protect moments of silence. A walk without headphones. A few minutes of reflection before the day begins. Sitting with a thought instead of rushing to resolve it.

Stillness creates perspective. It slows the mind enough to distinguish urgency from importance. It allows emotions to settle and decisions to mature. Many of the best insights I’ve had didn’t come during intense effort, but during calm, unoccupied moments. In a world that celebrates speed and constant output, choosing stillness feels almost rebellious. Yet, it is often the most productive thing you can do.

Stillness helps you respond instead of react. It helps you listen instead of assume. It helps you choose instead of drift.

As I grow older, I no longer see stillness as a luxury. I see it as a necessity — a way to reconnect with myself amid the noise.

Because sometimes, the most powerful move forward begins with a pause.

Reflections in the 40s - Part 8 - The Joy Of Enough

 For most of my adult life, I lived with an invisible script playing in my mind - more is better. More success, more money, more achievements, more recognition, more milestones. The chase felt exciting, even addictive. And for a long time, it worked. It pushed me, stretched me, kept me hungry.

But somewhere along the way - especially in my 40s - I realised something simple yet profound: there is a quiet joy in “enough.” 

Enough doesn’t mean less ambition.

It means less anxiety.

It doesn’t mean giving up on growth.

It means not being enslaved by it.

“Enough” is not about settling. It’s about recognising when you already have what truly matters - health, family, meaningful work, financial stability, a sense of direction, and people who care. In my 20s and 30s, I often measured life in terms of what was missing. Today, I try to measure life in terms of what is present. That shift alone has created more calm than any achievement ever did.

The joy of enough shows up in simple ways:

– Finishing the workday without guilt.

– Enjoying a meal without rushing to the next task.

– Feeling grateful instead of restless.

– Sleeping with a mind that isn’t constantly chasing.

When you understand “enough,” you stop comparing. You stop racing invisible competitors. You stop living by someone else’s scoreboard. “Enough” brings balance to ambition. It allows you to pursue goals without losing yourself in them. It lets you grow without feeling inadequate. It reminds you that life is not a ladder to climb, but a space to live.

There is a quiet strength in saying, “I have enough. I am enough.” 

And in that moment, you realise that contentment isn’t the end of growth - it’s the foundation for growth.