Peace Isn't What You Think It Is
Peace isn’t what you think it is.
We’ve been taught, culturally, that peace arrives at some future destination: financial security, conflict-free relationships, and work that feels deeply meaningful one hundred percent of the time. When we finally achieve the right external conditions, then—then—our internal world will settle. We’ll feel content. Safe. At ease.
That idea is everywhere.
Across the internet, we’re told to “protect our peace” by cutting off anything—or anyone—that causes discomfort. I’m protecting my peace, bye. Taken to an extreme, this isn’t the path to peace at all. It’s a path toward increased anxiety, isolation, and disconnection.
So what is peace? And how do we actually cultivate it?
Over the past few months, a group of Buddhist monks quietly showed us the answer.
I was deeply grateful to witness the monks walking for peace as they passed through Fredericksburg. As they approached, something shifted. The air felt different. The energy softened. I could immediately access a still center within myself—everything else faded into the background. I felt grounded, solid, contained.
That moment transported me back to a transformative period in my early twenties, when I first learned what peace truly is—and how to find it.
For two years, every Friday evening, I sat in meditation with the Missionaries of Charity, the contemplative order founded by Saint Teresa of Calcutta. Their vocation was prayer and presence, and they welcomed me into their weekly meditation practice.
I didn’t earn that invitation through achievement or spiritual merit. I was invited because I was suffering deeply, and a beloved mentor brought me there. Those two years changed my life.
Each evening followed the same simple ritual: an opening prayer, an hour or more of silent meditation, and a closing prayer. Before that, I had never meditated. I didn’t know what to expect—and it was intense.
I squirmed. My thoughts raced. My body was uncomfortable. My emotions were raw. Some nights I wanted to bolt for the door. And yet, the women—like the monks—already had a relationship with peace. They sensed my struggle. Sometimes they offered a gentle smile, a whispered word, or simply shifted their breathing in a way that reminded me I could stay. That I could move through whatever discomfort or pain was pulling me away from myself.
For a long time, the only relief I felt was when the closing prayer began—because it meant it was almost over.
Still, I kept returning.
Even though meditation initially amplified my suffering, I also experienced something else: the same grounded, steady presence I felt witnessing the monks. That presence felt like respite. I felt seen—every flaw, every mistake—and held anyway, in full presence and loving kindness.
Over time, the practice softened. Meditation became less abrasive, less effortful. I felt more spacious, less attached to the thoughts and sensations passing through me. And then, quietly, I began to experience moments of true presence.
I met peace.
That peace didn’t stay confined to the convent walls. It followed me into my daily life. Situations that once triggered reactivity no longer did. Instead, I found pauses. Space. Glimpses of understanding—of my own suffering and the suffering of others.
What I learned was this: peace arises when we stay present with all of our experience. Not because we like what’s happening, or approve of it, but because we stop resisting it. We stop trying to offload discomfort through avoidance or reaction. Presence creates freedom.
I still experienced distraction. I still felt discomfort. But I could stay with it—and move through it.
The women did for me what the monks are offering us now: a living demonstration that peace is found in how we meet each moment.
The monks have walked through intense heat, pouring rain, snow, ice, and bitter wind. They’ve moved through welcoming communities and hostile ones, through support and ridicule. And still, they walk—grounded in each step, each breath, each moment, with compassion.
That is peace.
Not perfect weather.
Not perfect relationships.
Not constant comfort—physical or emotional.
Peace is presence with what is. And from that presence, you always have a choice: to move around your experience, or to move through it—with awareness, dignity, and loving kindness.
3 Meditation Myths & Common Mistakes
Meditation is a science backed activity that relieves stress and, unfortunately, has some misinformation surrounding it. Today we are going to look at and debunk a few of these myths and misconceptions that gives meditation and meditation classes a bad rep.
Myth #1:
Meditation benefits take years to notice.
NOPE, research suggests people can begin to benefit from meditation in as little as 10 minutes a day. Measurable brain changes occur after 8 weeks of daily 20 minute meditation practices.
Myth #2:
Your mind has to be empty for it to work.
Once again, nope.
Meditation practices and experiences are as varied as types of candy that I love, so in other words, a lot.
Myth #3:
Meditation is B.S.
This is also false because, meditation has a robust science backing and many proven benefits to improve your health and overall life.
Now that we have debunked a few myths, what are 3 of the most common mistakes made when attempting meditation?
3 Most Common Meditation Mistakes
Giving up.
Giving up.
Giving up.
That’s right, really the only mistake you can make is to give up.
Meditation is a relationship that is dynamic and with practice can become a primary tool in your wellness bag.
So, don’t give up! Keep learning in your pursuit of a better and healthier you!
If you want to learn more about Meditation and all of it’s benefits (reduce anxiety and depression, reduce stress, improve work efficiency just to name a few) check out our upcoming Meditation for Beginners class at our office located in downtown Fredericksburg by clicking here!
The Symmetry of Intention & Affirmation
Last week, in yoga I set my class intention as “enough” and reflected on when and how I don’t feel like I’m enough.
I was using my recently purchased Liforme yoga mat which has alignment aids that help my practice and is also environmentally-friendly, which is a rare quality in mats. If you'd like to know more about "green" yoga mats, ConsumersAdvocate.org recently put together a study that tested mats on an “eco-friendliness” scale to help consumers lessen their environmental impact and choose the right mat for their practice. Definitely worth a read!
What are the triggers?
How do I mask the feelings of not enough?
That led me to the concept of worth…
Did I feel worthy and was that related to “enoughness” in my life.
What surfaced, was an affirmation; I am enough to give freely and worthy to receive abundantly.
Wow. Really?
I wondered if I believed that. It felt powerful, grounded even. The rest of my yoga class was infused with focused energy. Each time I said the affirmation, it seemed to flow more deeply through me, my breath carrying it to all the nooks and crannies of my body. Importantly, I knew that even if I didn’t fully believe the affirmation, the areas of unbelief would show up quickly. I’d be able reshape and restructure them so that I believed I was enough to give freely and worthy of receiving abundantly.
That’s the symmetry of intention and affirmation.
When we set an intention for ourselves, whether it’s a word, phrase or sentence, a path has been set. Affirmations are a vehicle to use along the path; the intention and affirmation work together clarifying and facilitating the achievement. It’s like the familiar situation of being hungry and not being sure of what you want to eat and how to get there. Without clarity about what you want (the intention) you can’t support yourself in getting it (the affirmation).
You’d drive all over town not sure what food you want or don’t want.
Do you want pizza? Maybe.
Mexican? I don’t know.
A sandwich? I guess, but not really.
How often do we do that in our lives. We know we want to go, do or explore something but we don’t take the time to get clear on the intention which impedes our ability to support ourselves along the way. Often carving out a few minutes when we feel a tugging in our heart or a repetitive thought in our mind begins the journey.
When we choose to explore the tug or the thought, it gives us insight into what we want and how we can set an intention, which then opens us up to the ability to create a unique affirmation to keep us on course, trusting the process of fulfillment.
Take time today and on a regular basis to reflect on those inner urges, nagging thoughts and often-repeating patterns of your life and allow that reflection to guide you toward an intention. You may be surprised, as I was in yoga, what type of affirmation develops to help hold and direct the intention. Then, enjoy the journey. My partner laughs whenever I say, “Let’s go get a salad, I have a hankering for some greens” but we get in the car knowing exactly where the best salads are, able to anticipate how good it’s going to taste and arrive where we want to go, every time.
P.S. You too, are enough to give freely and worth receiving abundantly.
Repainting My Home- A Meditation on Transition
I recently repainted my living room, dining room, hallway and kitchen, in a weekend.
Yes, a weekend.
All at once, the eighteen months of agonizing questions such as, “what colors accent the odd flow of the space well?’, “do I really want to do another painting project?” “Is there any way I can justify spending the money to hire someone else to do it?” “When can I fit a project like this into my already busy life?” became clear and a free weekend appeared.
I knew what color scheme I wanted the upstairs of my home to be, became excited about the transformation and even enlisted a few friends to help me finish it.
Let me be clear, this all crystallized in 24hrs.
Once I began, something unexpected occurred…
As I was prepping the walls, taping and “cutting in” at the baseboards and crown molding, I noticed myself reflecting on my family’s time here in this home and on my role as a mom. At the same time I found my mind drifting into the future, watching the new color blending with the old eventually replacing it. It awakened the sometimes anxious, sometimes sad, sometimes joyful feelings I am experiencing in my current transition to an empty nest.
The project took on a meditative quality.
In the back and forth flow of reflection and resulting clarity that mirrored the flow of the paint roller my tension about the past and the unknown of the future eased. I relaxed into the process, into the unfolding of the moment.
Maybe it was the acceptance of the moment that allowed answers to the ever present questions of:
Was this enough? Was I enough?
And allowed the becoming of the unknown future to stay as yet unknown within the present moment.
As my painted edges revealed themselves imperfectly, yet also good enough, I remembered many instances of the same in my parenting; times when I showed up less than graceful, less than ideal, yet also probably good enough.
With each scuff mark I painted over or each accident inspired dent I smoothed with spackling; I recalled the laughter and the noise of my kids and their friends.
In accepting as well as honoring the perfectly imperfect time capsule this home has provided for us all, I also accepted myself a little more completely, a little more deeply. By holding my successes and shining parenting moments with the same love and compassion as my own scuffed parenting responses, my own accidentally dented approaches to loving and guiding my children, I realized it was all ok, I became able to more eagerly lean into the unknown future of this home and my own identity development during this new transition.
I can open more easily and trustingly to what is, what is becoming and what will be.
Right now, I know that I have an upstairs with fresh, beautifully coordinated paint, rearranged furniture and a future that is likely as imperfectly perfect as my past in this home, to look forward to.
As we approach the transition to a new season, recognizing and joining with other transitions in our lives; maybe we all can approach ourselves with a little more kindness and compassion, honoring each imperfect part of the journey.
To Thine Own Self Be True, Even In Sweaty Conversations
I read somewhere recently that behind most anxiety is a sweaty 10 minute conversation that no one wants to have. That seems wise to me because those sweaty conversations are difficult for most of us.
They force us to confront beliefs we have about ourselves and others.
They urge us into the unknown by propelling us toward doorways and into unknown rooms that inevitably change what we know to be true and real in this moment.
So why do it?
Why risk all that change?
Why confront all that fear?
Self love.
Self love and the pure unselfish desire to continue becoming, and to continue connecting. That is reason enough to begin to step into those sweaty conversations, those places of unknown because it is in the act of supporting ourselves, our desires and our hopes that we build trust, both within ourselves and in our families, communities and the world at large.
Each of these sweaty moments affirms I matter, my hopes matter, my dreams, ideas, intentions matter and I honor myself and you as well as the relationship between us by giving voice to them, here in this moment.
Sometimes all it takes is a change in perspective about what we are doing to help us lean into a moment, an opportunity to give voice to our truth.
Maybe in simply changing our narrative from “if I say this then I risk losing” to “when I say this I am honoring” then we can wipe the sweat from our brows and step into the doorway of the unknown which connects us ever more deeply to ourselves and each other in truth, honor and respect.