09/10/2025
Sometimes the thing we long for most — peace, trust, hope — can feel the most unsettling when it arrives. I’ve been sitting with that feeling.
Why Would Peace Scare Me?
There’s a place inside us sometimes where one of the skills we’ve learned is to be awake, to be aware, to be vigilant, to be prepared. And that state can end up feeling more comfortable than being at peace.
This morning I noticed something. A feeling came: I’m afraid. And right before that, I had also heard myself say, I’m at peace. I felt able to look for joy, to rest in peace. And then, almost immediately, another voice rose: I’m afraid.
It made me wonder—how often do we find ourselves afraid of peace itself? Afraid of trust. Afraid of hope.
When I sit with it, I think what’s happening is that the noticing itself is a doorway. What I’m catching is the place where old control mechanisms live—patterns, brainstem responses, the way the mind organizes and sorts through the day.
It feels like an organizational hallway. Thoughts, feelings, sensations, the morning’s stimulus, all lining up, waiting their turn to enter. And then somehow, without anyone noticing, peace slipped in. Joy slipped in. Wholeness, softness, even ordinariness came forward, right to the front of the line. They were ready to move through, to be released into the brain, into the being, into the synapses.
And then right behind them—here came anxiety. Here came vigilance. Almost shouting: oh no, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of that.
And that’s so interesting, isn’t it? To see that sometimes the thing that most startles us is the very peace we say we want.
What happens in you when peace arrives — does it feel like home, or does it feel unfamiliar? Is there a part of you that still believes vigilance is safer than trust?
Maybe the fear that rises isn’t a warning at all. Maybe it’s only an old pattern, trying to keep its place in line. What if peace itself is the truer practice of safety — the kind that doesn’t require armor, only breath?
I’m learning to let peace step forward first. Even when the old fear tries to catch up, I’m choosing to pause and allow joy, ordinariness, and softness to lead.