There is absolutely nothing I feel compelled to write about right now – and what a rare and gorgeous thing that is. Not because I’ve run out of things to say (please, I’ve lived many lives and have the emotional scarring to prove it) but because – for once – my brain isn’t spinning like my friends and I 5 years ago on cocaine. It’s not dissecting a text from three days ago, not replaying a weird look from someone I barely know, not even catastrophizing the weather. It’s just… floating. Empty. Unoccupied.
And I know I’m supposed to fear the empty spaces but this one? This one feels like peace.
Which is funny, because moments like this are exactly why I had to write. Ironic, right? But when your brain finally quiets down and takes a goshdarn break, it feels like you’ve wandered into the kind of sacred stillness that deserves to be honoured. Or at least documented before it slips away again.
Oh – and before I forget (or start overthinking), here’s a poem. I don’t remember what prompted it exactly but it’s been sitting in the notes app (since university days), waiting to be heard:
colder.
I’m colder than you.
I’m as cold as what too cold would be
For you.
I’m colder than them too;
Coldest berg from all the bergs up north –
Not you.
You may do what you
May do, but I am still far colder
Than you.
And that’s probably the meanest thing I’ve ever written.
But I’m working on it. Just… not right now.
Right now, I’m choosing stillness. Choosing softness. Choosing the blissful nothingness of a quiet mind that – for once – isn’t spiralling into another crisis I invented out of boredom and unresolved trauma.
Right now, I’m choosing to do nothing, think about nothing, solve nothing. I’m not investigating someone else’s silence or drafting imaginary arguments or writing apology texts in my head that I’ll never send. I’m just here. And it feels a lot like freedom. You know those days where you physically do nothing? You binge some forgettable Netflix series, maybe rewatch The Office for the 9th time or Brooklyn 99 for the 99th and order UberEats even though your fridge is fully stocked and silently judging you?
Now imagine that same kind of lazy indulgence – but for your brain. Mental loafing. Emotional pajamas.
We need this. You need this. I fucking need this. Because if we’re told to rest our bodies to heal, why wouldn’t that apply to our minds too? Especially the kind of mind that’s usually three tabs deep in over-analysis and childhood wounds.
To me, having a “strong mind” doesn’t mean being in constant control. It means having the grace to know when to pause. It means knowing when to let your brain take off its metaphorical bra and just be. Of course, there’s no magic spell for these moments. You can’t schedule them. You can’t manufacture them. But when they come – and they will, even if it’s only for a few minutes – you have to let yourself bask in them.
Let your mind rest. Watch your favorite movie for the 17th time. Go on a walk without trying to turn it into content. Paint your nails a ridiculous color. Rearrange your bookshelves. Make the bed slowly. Do whatever your version of “easy” looks like. Let your brain breathe. Let it recover from all the things you’ve unfairly asked it to carry.
Because eventually, it will start buzzing again. You’ll remember that one awkward thing you said in 2014 or spiral over a text left on read. And that’s okay too. But for now? Let nothing be enough. Let stillness be the win.
You’ve earned it, Sugar.
Until next time we chat, stay committed to your own good.
Enjoy peace