When Discontent Won’t Go Away: What Stillness Can Teach You About Peace

Do you ever feel a low-level dissatisfaction with your life?

That unsettled, restless hum beneath the surface?Of course you do!

I’ve spent decades chasing after more and better. And you know what? That rat race always leaves me feeling burned out, disconnected, and lonely. Then I blame my circumstances—or the people around me. Pretty spiritual, right?

Sound familiar?C’mon… I know I’m not the only one. You won’t get any judgment from me.

But I’ve learned how to approach that discontent in a way that opens up peace—and sometimes even a deep, quiet bliss. And I want to share it with you.

Sometimes an outward change is necessary to find peace.

In my life, I’ve often followed the nudge of restlessness toward new jobs, relationships, spiritual paths, and personal growth. I don’t think it’s wrong to act on that kind of inner unrest. In fact, I believe it’s often a call from within—a signal from your Higher Guidance—inviting you to grow into a truer version of yourself.

Sometimes that inner nagging voice is legit. It’s time to go back to school. Or end the relationship. Or finally make that move you’ve been dreaming about.

But… not always.

But sometimes you're simply caught in restless angst.

You know the feeling: ungrounded, irritable, unsatisfied—and unsure why. It’s like an internal itch you keep trying to scratch with external changes. A new project. A new snack. A new spiritual practice. But the itch never goes away.

I know, without a doubt, that there will be times when we simply can’t change the outer circumstances.

And when that happens, we’re left with two choices:

1. Resist the limits and suffer more, or

2. Meet the discomfort with compassion and presence.

(I suppose there’s a third option involving a drunken stupor… but that’s not really my style. And I’m guessing it’s not yours either.)

This is exactly why I need silent meditation retreats. 

Have you ever been on one?

When I was more formally practicing Zen Buddhism at the Minnesota Zen Meditation Center, I regularly attended silent, group retreats. These days, I find myself drawn to solo, silent retreats. They help me reset and get re-centered. They help me stop chasing more, and return to what’s already here.

If I’m not careful, I can get way too focused on other people—on doing, fixing, proving. And not in a helpful way.

Silent meditation retreats create space for inward connection.

Several years ago, I attended a Rohatsu retreat in early December—the annual Zen observance of Buddha’s enlightenment. I stayed for four days (the longest I could do without interfering with my custody schedule). It was cold. The lake was beginning to freeze. Christmas lights twinkled on the neighborhood homes.

Inside the retreat center, everything was stripped down to silence. No eye contact. No talking. Just sitting. Breathing. Staring at the wall. It’s a bit like stepping into a sensory deprivation chamber… on purpose.

For this retreat, I stayed indoors the entire time—wanting to limit outside stimulation and go “all in.” (Yes, I’m that Type A.)

The first two days can be hard.

Boredom. Restlessness. A lot of discontent.And then… hysterical laughter.

That’s right. My biggest challenge was trying not to laugh uncontrollably during evening zazen. I had no idea why it hit me—I just knew I couldn’t stop it and I didn’t want to disturb anyone else.

If you sit and stare at a wall long enough, you will feel everything.

And if you stay with it… something shifts.

By the third night, I felt still. More rooted. More present.

Like I had settled underneath the noise of my mind.

That’s when I felt the call to step outside.

And I was awestruck.

I had completely forgotten it was Christmastime. As I stepped into the cold air and saw the lights, it was as if I was seeing civilization for the first time. I smiled like a 5-year-old getting exactly what they wanted from the real Santa Claus.

I felt profoundly connected to everything around me.

Not a single trace of discontent.

You can’t live in a state of bliss forever.

(I know—bummer.)

The truth is, even the most profound spiritual experiences fade. You can’t live in that mountaintop moment. And if you try to chase it? You’re back in the cycle of wanting more. Back in the cycle of discontent.

But here’s the good news: You can train yourself to access more presence—right in the middle of daily life.

Start with one moment of stillness.

Try this: choose a single object. A mug. A tree. A wall.

Look at it for 2–3 minutes.Breathe.Every time your mind drifts (which it will), return your attention to that object.Not with force—just with kindness.

That’s the practice.

And when the ache returns—pray, connect, turn inward.

For me, prayer isn’t about fixing pain. It’s about embracing it with compassion. It’s a way of inviting my Higher Guidance to hold me when I feel empty or unsatisfied.

"Please meet me where I’m at. Help me bring love to this part of me that feels restless and empty. Help me find meaning in what’s already here. Help me feel connected again. Thank you for holding me.”

And you know what? That kind of loving, inner dialogue literally changes your brain.

When you practice internally guided prayer using kind, compassionate language, your brain releases natural feel-good chemicals like dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin. You already have what you need to feel more soothed and at ease.

Isn’t that incredible?

Then, take action based on what matters most to you

Is there a prayer or practice that helps you become more present or soothed amidst your own discontentedness or unrest? I’d love to know. Connect with me.

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Disclaimer: This blog is intended for informational and inspirational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional mental health care, diagnosis, or treatment. Reading this does not create a therapeutic relationship with Sherri M. Herman. If you are struggling with your mental health, please reach out to a licensed therapist or medical provider in your area.