
We’ll do just about anything to feel at peace, won’t we?
We buy books we never read. We sign up for meditation apps we never open. We hire life coaches who make us repeat affirmations into the mirror like we’re auditioning for a toothpaste commercial.
Peace of mind is the ultimate luxury item. And like most luxury items, people will try to get it any way they can—cash, credit, or sheer denial.
We chase peace like it’s a runaway balloon, always just out of reach. But we chase it nonetheless. Why? Because when you don’t have peace, even the best parts of life feel itchy. And when you do have peace, even the chaos quiets down.
Let’s look at a couple of peace-hunters, shall we?
Meet James: The Gym Rat with a Secret
James was a high-powered real estate broker. He drove a Tesla, wore designer shoes, and never missed a networking brunch. But inside, he was a pressure cooker. He clenched his jaw so hard at night, his dentist named a vacation home after him.
To cope, James went all in on fitness. We’re talking 5 a.m. CrossFit, meal prepping, and protein shakes that tasted like wet cardboard. He told himself it was for health, but deep down, it was the only place he felt in control.
Eventually, between bench presses and burpees, James realized that he didn’t need tighter abs—he needed to loosen his grip on perfection. Peace didn’t come from pushing harder. It came from releasing what he couldn’t control. One day, he finally sat down and talked to a counselor—not a trainer—and discovered the art of breathing. Not just the inhale-exhale kind, but the kind that let him exhale guilt, shame, and the fear of disappointing others.
Turns out, peace was hiding in a quiet room, not a weight room.
Then There’s Monica: The Chronic People-Pleaser Turned Boundary Ninja
Monica was the kind of person who said “yes” before the question was finished. Bake sale? Sure. Last-minute report? Absolutely. Babysit your tarantula? You bet!
She was beloved, indispensable, and utterly exhausted.
Her mind raced every night with replayed conversations, second-guessing, and imaginary arguments where she finally told people what she should have said.
Then one day, she snapped—not loudly, but inwardly. She realized she had handed out slices of her peace like free samples at Costco.
So, she started small. “No, I can’t make it.” “Sorry, that doesn’t work for me.” “I’m not available this weekend.” Each sentence felt like doing pushups with her throat muscles, but she kept at it.
Now? Monica’s calendar is lighter. Her heart is freer. And her peace? Hard-won, but glorious.
What About You?
Maybe your peace looks like silence. Or a long walk. Or finally forgiving yourself for the thing you still punish yourself for in the quiet hours. The methods vary. But peace has a pattern—it doesn’t usually come through grasping. It comes through letting go.
And sometimes, the deepest peace isn’t found in doing more. It’s found in trusting more.
“You will keep the mind that is dependent on You in perfect peace, for it is trusting in You.”
— Isaiah 26:3 (CSB)








