Energy, Stillness, and the Pulse of 2020
Does anyone remember that first wave of “stock up” during the pandemic? This was the back of my car filled with groceries and plants to start a garden.
I’ve always been able to feel the energy in a room—before I even knew what that meant. It’s like having a subtle frequency running through my body that picks up everything: tension, excitement, sadness, even unspoken stories. I sometimes think everyone can feel it. But for me, I’ve learned that it is a huge part of how I move through the world.
And then came 2020.
The world went quiet in a way I had never felt before. Planes stopped flying. Roads emptied. Children stayed home. The energetic buzz of errands, meetings, and obligations disappeared overnight.
What filled that space—oddly, beautifully—was peace.
Not the kind of peace you find in a spa.
Not silence as avoidance.
But a strange, electric stillness.
A moment where I wasn’t rushing. I was just… here.
The Paradox of Chaos Bringing Clarity
That was the most chaotic experience I’ve lived through. And yet, I’ve never felt more clear. It was terrifying and peaceful all at once. As if the world was grieving and healing in the same breath.
I’m not comparing the pandemic to war, as I have never lived though a war, but I imagine wartime America must have carried a similar weight. Everyone afraid of the same invisible threat. Everyone unsure of what comes next. The lines between us and them fading, because we’re all suddenly in it together.
We were scared of each other—but also willing to connect in new, strange, sacred ways.
We had a common enemy—but we also had a shared heartbeat.
What We Did With That Stillness
That strange stillness—the one I can still feel if I close my eyes—didn’t just float by. It shifted how we lived.
We leaned into the quiet. We got creative. We made memories I’ll never forget.
We had tea parties on our balcony, with my teenage kids—moments of play and presence that felt like time had folded in on itself.
We baked sourdough bread—like so many others—and somehow that bread felt like it made the world make sense again.
We started a vegetable garden, born from whispers of food scarcity, but also rooted in a desire to connect to something slow and alive.
We spent more time as a family—not running around, but sitting, laughing, eating, dreaming, we even started our now annual outdoor movie nights.
And for me, something shifted permanently:
I started dreaming about creating a blog, a brand, a business.
I let myself imagine a different life.
It was one of the biggest turning points of my adult life—and it came because I slowed down enough to hear my own thoughts.
Where We Go From Here
Life sped back up, of course. The meetings returned. The commutes. The expectations. The hustle.
But I’ve never forgotten the energy of those early months.
And every now and then—like this afternoon, sitting outside—I feel it again.
And when I do, I stop. I breathe. I remember.
Peace isn’t something we earn through perfection.
It’s something we create through presence.
And while I’m a little skeptical that humans—okay, maybe especially Americans—will ever pull off something as globally unifying as the pandemic again… I’m still hopeful.
Because I want to live in a world where peace is part of the rhythm—not just a pause button we hit during disaster.
I want to create offerings that carry peace in their bones.
I want peaceful gatherings of all types of people.
I want to hang out with humans who are trying to find peace of mind—and inspire the ones who don’t know how yet.
I want us all to find peace.
And yes—I want us all to eat good food and laugh while we do it.
The peace that you seek? That hum that was felt? That strange, soft clarity?
It’s not gone. It’s just waiting for us to remember.
🌍 What About You?
I know not everyone experienced the early days of the pandemic as peaceful. For some, it was overwhelming, painful, or deeply uncertain. But I’ve also spoken with others who—like me—remember a strange kind of stillness. A pause. A shift. A breath.
So now I’m curious, and I want to open the conversation:
🌀 Did you feel calm, clear or peaceful at any point?
🌬️ Was there a moment of clarity, reconnection, or emotional shift—even amidst the chaos?
🌱 What changed for you in those quiet early days of 2020, if anything?
If you feel like sharing, I’d truly love to hear your reflections. You can leave a comment here, send me a message, or simply sit with the memory and let it speak to you.
Because even in the most uncertain times, there’s wisdom waiting to be named.
And the more we share, the more we understand—not just each other, but ourselves.
Gentle Prompt for You:
📝 When was the last time you truly felt peace?
🌬️ What did it feel like in your body?
🌱 What would it look like to create that feeling again, even in small, quiet ways?
That hum you remember?
It’s still out there.
But more importantly—it’s still in here. ♡