Calm Is a Superpower (And It’s Often Misunderstood)
- Jo Sistla
- Jan 27
- 4 min read
Calm is one of those qualities that sounds appealing in theory but feels hard to claim in real life. Mostly because the version of calm we’re shown feels unrealistic. Too quiet. Too sorted. Too neat. Too emotionally edited and almost curated.
The kind of calm that suggests life has slowed down, loose ends are tied up, and nothing feels demanding anymore.
For most people, that’s not reality. There are deadlines. Messages that sit unanswered. Days where practice feels grounding, and days where it feels like effort. And when that’s the landscape of everyday life, it’s easy to assume that calm belongs to someone else—someone doing life “better.”
But that assumption misses what calm actually is.
Calm Isn’t the Absence of Chaos

One of the biggest misconceptions about calm is that it requires everything around you to settle first.
Calm doesn’t mean life is peaceful, slow, or perfectly regulated. It means you don’t disappear the moment things get intense. It’s the ability to stay present when there’s an urge to rush, fix, react, or check out. It’s not being unbothered—it’s being anchored.
Calm and chaos often coexist. Feeling both at the same time doesn’t mean something is wrong. It simply means you’re human.
This was the biggest shift for me.
What Yoga Reveals About Calm

People often assume yoga makes you calm because you stretch and breathe.
Anyone who’s practiced Ashtanga knows that’s not the full picture.
Calm doesn’t show up when things are easy. It shows up when the breath feels shaky and you stay with it anyway. When the mind gets loud and you don’t immediately follow it. When there’s resistance, and instead of forcing, you soften.
That kind of calm isn’t instant. It’s learned—slowly. Through repetition. Through discomfort. Over time, it starts to extend beyond the mat. Into conversations. Decisions. Moments that might once have triggered an automatic reaction.
Why Calm Is So Often Misunderstood
We live in a world that rewards speed and volume. So when you’re calm, people might assume you don’t care enough. Or that you’re not ambitious. Or that you’re emotionally checked out.
I’ve seen this especially in work spaces, where calm often gets mistaken for a lack of urgency.
But calm isn’t passive. It isn’t switched off. It’s the ability to pause, take information in, and respond clearly instead of emotionally. And that kind of response takes strength—often more than reacting quickly ever does.
Calm Doesn’t Mean You Don’t Feel Things
This matters. Calm doesn’t mean irritation, overwhelm, or doubt disappear. Those experiences still show up.
The difference is the presence of a pause—sometimes just long enough to breathe—before reacting.
And within that pause is choice.
Choice about how to respond.
Choice about what deserves energy.
Choice about how you want to show up.
Sometimes I still choose chaos. But at least it’s conscious now.
What Calm Looks Like in Real Life
Calm doesn’t have one fixed expression.
Calm changes with the season you’re in. It doesn’t demand consistency in the way productivity culture does. Sometimes, calm is simply not abandoning yourself when things feel uncomfortable.
Some days it looks like a strong, steady practice. Other days it looks like cancelling plans. Not replying immediately. Letting something remain unfinished.
Why I Still Believe Calm Is a Superpower
Not because it makes life smooth—but because it keeps you steady when life isn’t.
Calm helps you stay connected to yourself when things feel loud and uncertain. It gives you clarity without rushing you to conclusions. It lets you move through pressure without losing yourself in it.
In a world obsessed with speed and reaction, that kind of steadiness is rare.
If this resonates, the theme is explored further in a recent podcast episode—looking at how calm is often misunderstood across yoga practice, work life, and everyday experiences. The episode is linked here.
Calm isn’t something to perfect or perform. It’s something to practice. Something to return to. And it’s far less about having it all together than learning how to stay with yourself when you don’t.
Bringing This Into Practice (On and Off the Mat)
Everything I’ve written here is something I continue to practice — imperfectly, daily.
This idea of calm isn’t about fixing yourself or becoming someone more “zen.” It’s about building capacity. Learning how to stay with intensity without hardening. Learning how to soften without collapsing.
That’s the thread that runs through my classes, my offerings, and the spaces I create — whether it’s through Ashtanga practice, slower mindful sessions, or simply holding space for people to meet themselves honestly.
If you’re craving a more immersive experience, I’m also hosting an upcoming Yoga Retreat — a space to step away from the noise, reconnect with your body and breath, and explore what calm can feel like when it’s practiced, not performed.
Whether you join me on the mat, listen in, or simply sit with these words for a moment longer — know that calm isn’t something you’re missing. It’s something you’re learning to trust.




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