Some days, I wake up ready to conquer the world. Other days, I wake up ready to conquer… breakfast. That’s it. The rest can wait. This year taught me that claiming inner peace didn’t require a mountain retreat, a crystal bowl, and a spiritual rebirth
But peace, I’ve learnt, often arrives disguised as a deep breath, a glass of water, or a moment where I stop catastrophizing everything. It sneaks in when I’m not performing for anyone, not even myself.
As 2025 wraps up, I’ve been thinking a lot about the chaos we’ve survived together. Natural disasters, violent conflicts, brain rot, and everything in between. This is my little reflection on claiming inner peace, and how I am learning to stay soft in a loud world.
My first accidental moment of calm
The first time I felt real calmness, I wasn’t meditating. I wasn’t doing yoga. I was staring at a ceiling fan, wondering why adulthood never came with instructions.
The fan kept spinning, and so did my thoughts, but slowly they began to align. I thought, “This is it, I guess”. Peace is like a clumsy guest who shows up early and stands awkwardly in the doorway until you finally notice them.
That day, I finally invited it in.
Soft tips for claiming inner peace
1) Don’t fight every thought
Thoughts behave like toddlers. If you chase them, they scream louder. If you sit quietly, they eventually tire themselves out.
2) Breathe like you’re pretending to have your life together
Slow breaths work. They trick your brain into believing things are fine, even when your emails or chats say otherwise.
3) Take small rituals seriously
A warm drink, a five-minute stretch, or a quiet pause before replying to someone, they matter more than you think.
4) Give yourself permission to do nothing
Stillness is not laziness, no matter what society tells you. It’s essential and harder to come by in this modern world, and science proves it.
The not-so-serious side of my inner calm journey
Honestly, I try to laugh at myself more now.
This year might’ve beaten my backside, but at least boleh lek lu. I think that’s my biggest achievement of 2025.
When my mind spirals, I imagine it as a dramatic TV character who always assumes the worst. It helps to recognize the melodrama. It turns fear into something almost silly.
Claiming inner peace becomes easier when I don’t treat every passing worry like an ancient prophecy. I remind myself that not every plot twist is deadly. Sometimes it’s just Tuesday, and your laundry isn’t done, and you’ve eaten nasi lemak 4x this week alone.
The poetry in ordinary moments
Peace hides in soft, quiet corners. The birdsong while you’re walking to the LRT. The sigh after finishing a long message. The small relief of deleting a draft you never needed to send.
I exemplify Ghibli films and how they make mundane moments so picturesque and beautiful. These tiny moments feel like untied knots. They show me that claiming inner peace isn’t about escaping reality but rather noticing life. The gentle parts. The parts that breathe even when I forget to.
We’re heading into 2026. I still stress. I still overthink minor texts to my superior like they’re national emergencies. But I’m learning. I’m softer now. I speak to myself with more patience.
Every day, I try to choose peace the way I choose water, sleep, or shutting my laptop when my brain starts doing cartwheels. Peace doesn’t arrive fully formed. It arrives in pieces. And I’m trying to slowly put them together.
Here’s to pushing forward in the new year together!
