Inertia — Nº175
Finding ease
Always think of what you have to do as easy and it will become so.
— Émile Coué
For as long as we live, every inhale ends with an exhale, every beginning has an end, and every situation of stress and tension can be met with relief and ease.
I’m grateful to be writing this at the beach—four thousand miles west of England and its poor excuse for a summer. Here, the warm natural earth surrounds my feet, the trees are enriched and standing in droves, and the sun is unforgivingly casting its rays onto my skin—a simple but fantastic feeling of heaven.
Travel is one of life’s best teachers; it’s like walking from a busy room to one in complete silence. It opens your eyes and sits you at a vantage point far from the noise that typically surrounds your life. And that’s what I needed. It’s hard to gain perspective and see things differently or clearly when you’re continuously loaded with social pressures, family obligations, job duties, and constant thinking.
To take a step back is a good thing in itself. Reflecting and understanding where you’ve come from so far is going one stepping stone further. When I look back at the past six months, I would label it with the phrase “dancing with fear”.
Fear is another sacred teacher, and I think it weaves nicely into the fabric you wear that tells you how to insert confidence. Through fear or travel—or even in anger or other situations that show you who you are—you navigate your upper limits and learn to make better decisions while riddled with obscure signals and unclear signs of what to do next. Your body tests whether you’re smarter than your wise old instincts, and it’s where you learn the most about what you can do better going forward.
Fear affects each of us differently; I fear making good decisions for myself, doing a good job at work or writing, or not knowing enough about certain things. I’ve taken two consecutive trips this month (including a break from writing last week) to understand this feeling and remind myself that fear is an alert about a boundary I can push back on.
When we do push back, we find ease. Ease is not the absence of challenges; it’s the ability to navigate them with composure. It’s how well we can gently exhale after any moment of tension and execute a soft landing after any leap of faith. The sun-drenched beach in front of me reminds me that ease is always within reach, even when it feels most elusive.
The ebb and flow of the waves remind me of life’s natural rhythm. Sometimes, they crash. Sometimes, they sing. They may hit the shore with force, but they will retreat peacefully moments later. It’s a dance of intensity and calm—much like our lives.
Finding ease means releasing our grip on control. Accepting what is rather than fighting it or trying to weigh it down with anger. This doesn’t mean passivity; C.S. Lewis once brilliantly said that you don’t find strength or understand badness by giving in. Instead, it’s about active engagement with life that allows flexibility, mobility, and adaptability, much like our bodies.
Travel reminds you of the importance of stillness when finding ease. We don’t always need to be running around, bearing a tight chest and the weight on our backs. Often, only in quiet moments of reflection do we realise how our past actions ripple outward, affecting everything around us, including the energy we release into the world. From there, we can start decluttering our minds and creating space and energy that helps our world. Here, we can prioritise experiences over possessions, relationships over status, and personal happiness over pleasing society.
The rhythmic lull of the ocean tells me that ease is our natural state. And it’s always there, waiting patiently in a corner of our busy lives. Remember to visit it from time to time.