Why I Was Silent for So Long

I haven't written in this blog for a long time. Not because I had nothing to say. Quite the opposite — too much was happening to write about it right away.

The past months have been a time of inner restructuring for me. Not another search for a "magic practice" or a new technique for fighting stress. It was, rather, a gradual maturing of my own thinking.

For a long time it seemed to me that stress needed to be fought. Controlled. That I shouldn't allow myself to get angry, nervous, irritated. If I managed to stay calm — everything was fine.

But over time I understood that this was an illusion.

Stress cannot be defeated. You cannot forbid yourself to feel emotions. You can only learn to notice them earlier than they start to control you.

This, I think, is what people call awareness.

I increasingly caught myself asking a very simple question: "Do I really need to be nervous right now?" And it's surprising how often the answer turns out to be no.

This doesn't mean the stress disappeared. It still comes. Only now there's a small space between the trigger and my reaction. And it's in that space that the freedom to choose lives.

There's something else I long refused to admit.

People often call me kind, calm, even-tempered. And for a long time I tried to live up to that image myself.

But the truth is, I'm not really like that.

Inside me live the same emotions as in any other person. Irritation. Anger. Resentment. The desire to defend my own boundaries.

I just learned very well how to hide them.

And, as it turns out, that's not at all the same thing as being calm.

When you constantly hold emotions inside, you start paying for it with your own inner freedom. You may not be in conflict with the people around you, but you gradually end up in conflict with yourself.

And now I'm starting to notice the opposite extreme.

When someone tries to invade my personal space, cross my boundaries, or pull me into their negativity, I react far more sharply than before. Sometimes even too sharply.

I used to think that was bad.

Now I think differently.

The problem isn't aggression itself.

Aggression is energy. Just as natural as fear or joy. The only question is who's in charge of it.

If emotions are in charge of it — it destroys.

If you are in charge of it — it becomes a way to protect yourself, your values, and your boundaries.

And here I noticed something interesting.

I stopped using the word "control."

Everyone around talks about controlling emotions, controlling anger, controlling thoughts.

But it seems to me our mind really doesn't like the word "control." Control always implies that someone stands above you, forcing you to do something you don't want to do.

I much prefer the word "steer."

Picture a driver.

They don't control the car the way you control a prisoner or a child. They steer it. They feel the road, make decisions, adjust direction, accelerate, brake.

Emotions work in much the same way.

They don't need to be locked up.

They need to be learned how to steer.

Awareness, I think, isn't about becoming an endlessly calm person.

It's about ceasing to be a hostage to your own automatic reactions.

During my silence I haven't become wiser than everyone around me. I haven't become unshakeable. I haven't gotten rid of irritation or anger.

But it seems I've come to understand myself a little better.

And maybe that's exactly where real inner freedom begins.