When the Noise is Too Loud to Hear Myself Think

What was your biggest lesson?

That was the question I was asked, referring back to my keynote at the prison earlier that week.

But my biggest lesson wasn’t about the prison. It wasn’t even about the impact I made there. It was about London.

A place I once called home for over twelve years. A place full of memories—of a life I once had, confronting yet comforting at the same time.

We stayed with our best friends, did all the fun kiddie things, and had a great time. But in the busyness of London, I noticed something unsettling:

My whole system was too on edge to reflect.

I was way too overwhelmed to even hear my own thoughts. Writing, for me, is a creative process. And creativity wasn’t just hard to find in London—it was completely absent.

It’s so obvious now: creativity needs space to breathe. But it’s more than that.

How Often Do We Miss the Whispers of Our Soul?

How often do we miss what’s truly important because life is too hectic? Because there’s too much noise, too many distractions, and too little stillness?

We rush. We fill our days with meetings, calls, endless to-do lists. We consume content, jump from one thing to the next, rarely pausing. We get so caught up in the external world that we forget to check in with our own.

And then, when we finally stop, we wonder why we feel disconnected from ourselves. Why our ideas feel forced. Why clarity seems just out of reach.

The Power of Intentional Stillness

In the peace and quiet I intentionally create, that’s where the magic happens. That’s where ideas take shape. That’s where the portal to everything unimaginably beautiful is.

When I’m somewhere still—away from the noise, away from distractions—my creativity flows. I can feel, process, and translate thoughts into something real. But that only happens when I make space for it.

Creativity isn’t something you chase; it’s something that arrives when you slow down enough to let it.

That was my biggest lesson of the week.

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Feel the fear and do it anyway - or not?

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Walking Into a Maximum-Security Prison