by Stephanie Bucklin
Life has a way of pulling us in a hundred different directions. Deadlines, responsibilities, other people’s expectations, the uncertainty of tomorrow—it can all feel like an endless current, sweeping us away from ourselves.
But the practice of returning to your center isn’t a one-time event. It is a lifelong journey, a rhythm, a gentle recalibration that we are called to again and again.
The Quiet Place Within
Deep inside, there is a still point that never changes. Some call it soul, spirit, or inner knowing. Others simply feel it as peace. It doesn’t need to prove itself, defend itself, or strive for more. It simply is. When life feels heavy or scattered, this is the place to return to.
The more we practice, the easier it becomes to find our way back—whether through breath, prayer, meditation, journaling, or simply pausing long enough to remember that we are more than the chaos around us.
My Practice Today
This morning was not easy for me. My partner was being hypercritical, and I felt attacked. I took offense, got upset, and instead of standing peacefully in my truth, I let the criticism pierce my confidence. I know I am not alone in this—how often do we let someone else’s words shake our sense of self?
But here’s the gift: every time I notice myself drifting away from peace, I have the chance to come back. For me, that return looked like small, simple actions.
I emptied and refilled the dishwasher—because taking action, even in the smallest way, often brings me back to presence. I made myself a delicious breakfast and nourished my body. Then, I turned on one of my favorite affirmation channels on YouTube, Wake Me Up. Today’s message was about confidence—exactly what I needed to hear, since criticism always challenges mine.
[Check out Wake Me Up Positive Affirmations <<Here]
As I listened, I remembered my truth: I choose peace every day. When someone tries to take my peace, I resist as much as I can. Today, I slipped—I let him get under my skin. But with awareness, I can see why. His judgment made me feel “not good enough.” And yet, I know that this judgment is rooted in his insecurity, not mine.
I am enough. Always.
Already Enough
In a world that constantly tells us to hustle, achieve, and perform, it can feel radical to stop and say, “I am already enough.” Yet this is the deepest truth. We don’t have to have all the answers right now. We don’t need to push or force things to happen before their time.
Growth and alignment happen in seasons. Some seasons call for action, others for stillness. Both are sacred.
Flowing with Life
When we let go of control, something magical happens: life begins to flow through us rather than around us. Opportunities arise naturally. Healing unfolds in ways we couldn’t have scripted. Relationships deepen when we meet others from a place of grounded presence rather than frantic striving.
This doesn’t mean we stop showing up for our dreams. It means we stop gripping so tightly. We trust the process, the timing, and the wisdom within us that whispers: “You are exactly where you need to be.”
A Daily Practice
So today, pause. Close your eyes. Take one slow breath in, one gentle breath out. Feel yourself returning to that inner sanctuary—the center that can’t be shaken by life’s storms.
Tomorrow, do it again. And again. Each return strengthens your connection to truth, peace, and flow.
Because your center is not a place you visit once. It is the home you come back to every day.
Namaste,
~S
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The Return
A Poem by Stephanie Bucklin (inspired by this blog post)
This morning, love was a storm—
words thrown like stones across the kitchen floor.
Criticism sharp as glass,
my peace cracked open.
I felt myself shrinking,
the old ache whispering, not enough.
But somewhere deeper,
a quieter voice waited.
I emptied the dishwasher.
One plate, one breath at a time,
order returning to the moment.
I cooked breakfast—
the smell of warmth reminding me
I am still here.
Confidence spoke through the speakers,
a YouTube voice like sunlight on water:
You are already enough.
I smiled through the ache.
Because even in conflict,
I see how much love there is—
two grown souls,
still learning how to meet each other
without losing themselves.
To love and be human
is to forget and to remember,
to break and to soften,
to fall out of peace and find it again.
And so I return.
Again and again,
to the center that waits
inside the quiet of my own heart.
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