Strength in Stillness

You’re addicted to motion.
If you’re not moving, you feel guilty.
If you’re not busy, you feel behind.

You wear exhaustion like a badge of honour —
as if stillness means you’ve stopped caring.

You live on adrenaline.
Back-to-back meetings.
Airports.
Endless conversations.

If there’s a spare moment, you fill it.
Silence makes you uncomfortable —
because it reminds you you’re human.

But eventually, life forces stillness on you.
It could be your health.
Your marriage.
You find yourself alone in a quiet house.

No noise.
No chaos.
Just space — and pain.

At first, you do everything to avoid it.
Work longer.
Train harder.
Stay busy.

But sooner or later, there’s nowhere left to run.
So you sit in it.

And in that stillness, something unexpected appears.
Clarity.
Peace.
Presence.

That’s when you realise —
stillness isn’t the absence of movement.
It’s the presence of awareness.

It’s what allows the noise to settle
so the truth can surface.

Without stillness, you live in reaction.
You make fast decisions that later need undoing.
You mistake motion for meaning.
You lose the signal in the static.

But when you allow stillness,
you start to see clearly again.
Ideas rise unforced.
Solutions emerge naturally.
Energy returns.

Stillness isn’t wasted time —
it’s the source of wisdom.

So before your next decision,
your next message,
your next move —pause for sixty seconds.

Breathe.
Let silence speak first.

The stiller you become,
the stronger your signal grows.

Yours truly,
Andrew

P.s. The letters are meant to journey; please share them with someone in mind.