Mindfulness and the Myth of the Calm Self

“Behind every role we play and goal we chase, there’s a human being who sometimes just needs to pause and breathe. Today, let’s remember that mental health is not a luxury, it’s the foundation of everything we are and everything we do. Take a moment. Check in with yourself. Choose calm over chaos. Because your well-being matters, today and every day."

Audio: https://youtu.be/lS7pTwn3x1o

Messages like this are everywhere.

Soft. Polite. Safe.

A gentle reminder to breathe. To slow down. To be well.

And honestly, it felt good at first.
I even loved the thought.
I want that kind of calm. I think we all do.

But something about “choose calm over chaos” didn’t sit right.

This was my response:

Agreed. However, sometimes the only way to achieve calm is through chaos.
To bypass this process means you do not truly heal, you are not in the present.
The calm will come, but the path might suck.
Just my thought.
Anyone agree or disagree? Let’s keep this conversation going.

With little to no response.

But sometimes silence means it landed too deep to scroll past.

Mainstream mindfulness is often more about image than honesty. It’s become a way to manage discomfort. To look calm. To sound wise. To feel in control.

But that’s not presence. That’s performance.

There are moments when choosing calm over chaos makes sense. When someone cuts you off in traffic, when the moment is small but your reaction is loud, that’s a place where calm is useful. It’s awareness. It’s regulation. It’s recognizing that not every feeling needs to lead.

But there are other times, times when calm shouldn’t be the first move. When you’re holding grief that hasn’t been named. When your body’s still remembering what your mind tried to forget. When you’re angry for good reason.

And in those moments, reaching for calm too quickly is a form of denial.

You can’t choose calm when the grief is still real. When the anger has been building for years. When the ache doesn’t go away just because you want it to.

That’s not failure. That’s what it means to be honest with yourself.

Sometimes the only way to reach calm is through chaos. Through the hard conversations. Through the overwhelm. Through the moments that feel like too much.

Not around it. Not above it. Through it.

That’s the kind of calm I trust. The kind that shows up after the body has told the truth. After the silence has been broken. After the feeling has been felt, all the way through.

Mindfulness isn’t calm. It’s awareness.

Awareness of when you’re spiraling and need to breathe. Awareness of when you’re pushing something down that needs to rise. Awareness of what’s real, whether it’s peaceful or not.

That’s the kind of mindfulness I believe in. The kind that doesn’t flinch at chaos. The kind that doesn't demand performance. The kind that knows calm is possible, but only if we stop trying to skip the part that hurts.

I never know when something is going to set me off.
Or set me on a path toward the next thing I need to say.

That’s the strange rhythm of this blog—for me, anyway.
Sometimes, good or bad, well meant or malicious,
a phrase or a moment sparks something.
And there it is: the next post begins.

Always remember to...Just Breathe!

If something in this spoke to you, feel free to share it.
And if you want to keep reading, you can subscribe—quietly, freely, without pressure.
This space will still be here.

Until next time,
—Unscripted