Calm during the storm. Can it really be done?

What a year of chaos taught me about peace.

Right now, my 9-week-old son is sleeping peacefully on my chest.

Three months ago, I was closing the doors on my UK PT business.

Six months ago, I was in the middle of a legal battle with my building manager.

Nine months ago, I was still in the UK praying my visa would arrive in time.

This year has been the most disrupted of my life.
And yet somehow — one of the most peaceful.

Not because everything went how I planned.
But because I stopped needing it to.

I’d built a life I loved in Brighton. Six years of stability. A growing business. Close to friends and family. It was a life I’d longed for. But a baby was on the way. And I needed to make a call.

It was time to move back to Australia.

Whilst I’d done it before, this time, giving everything up and moving to the other side of the world felt more daunting. Because the stakes were higher.

So I made a decision: to meet each moment — and every challenge — with curiosity and calmness.

Easier said than done.

Before I knew it, I was back to reacting from old patterns. Old stories about scarcity. Dramatising things internally before they’d even played out externally.

But this time something was different.

I could feel the fear, the anger, the tension arrive during triggering moments — and instead of being swept away by it, I could stay with it. Long enough to watch its grip loosen. Long enough to let it pass.

And each time I’d somehow find my way back to that calm, settled feeling underneath.

Over time this process has started to feel less like work and more like something I can actually trust. Dare I say it, even enjoy.

Because with it has come this quiet confidence. A deeper knowing that this is what it’s all about.

If I can keep coming back to this calm, peaceful state regardless of what’s happening, that’s the most important thing. Even more important than any planned or hoped-for outcome.

And once I landed on that realisation, something shifted. It stopped being about the outcome. It became about how I’m moving through it — every step of the way.

And yet… almost miraculously…

The visa arrived on time. The legal battle resolved. And I’ve only been sprayed in the face by my bub’s urine the once.

It almost feels like the universe somehow knows when you’ve let go and decides to dissolve the circumstances that were triggering you in the first place. Like it has no purpose for the disturbance anymore.

So, to sum up what I’ve learnt:

The work doesn’t have to feel like work.

The moment you recognise the disturbance, the fear, the old belief, it is just that - a passing event in consciousness. Not you. Not permanent. Not true.

You can then choose to zoom out and return to yourself. To this moment. And allow whatever’s happening internally to pass.

Because all a ‘trigger’ is ever doing is showing you what you’re still attached to, what you still believe you need to be ok and it’s offering you a chance to let go.

I’ve told clients this for years but living it is a different thing entirely. Especially when the stakes are real.