These are unusual times, bringing with them unusual amounts of stress for many. So I thought I’d repost a version of a blog I wrote about the best way I’ve learned to reduce stress, and to find silence and peace in the midst of chaos.

Stress is so common that a Google search generates millions of results with opinions about what stress is doing to us, and advice about how to manage it.

According to an American Psychological Association survey in 2012, on a scale of 1 to 10 (where 1 is “little or no stress” and 10 is “a great deal of stress”), 20 percent of the respondents said their stress was an 8, 9 or 10. And over the past five years, 60 percent of them had unsuccessfully tried to reduce their stress.

Much of the advice we get about managing stress has to do with focusing our minds on the present, rather than letting it wander to “what ifs” about the past or “shoulds” about the future.

I agree.

It’s the advice that often comes next that doesn’t work for many of us: Sit. Close your eyes. Feel your breath. Gently bring your thoughts back when they wander.

Don’t get me wrong. I believe mindful meditation can be a powerful way to become centered and present in the moment. Ed and I practiced Transcendental Meditation (TM) for decades, and we have attended numerous 10-day silent Vipassana Meditation retreats. Indeed, we have experienced moments of profound serenity and peace as a result of doing so.

But all too often, we find that our monkey-minds never shut down for very long. And sometimes the longer we sit silently, the louder they shout at us.

Ed and I have found an alternate route to peace and stillness that has become our daily routine: Tai chi.

Tai chi quite literally slows us down and centers us when life begins to feel out of control.
Research studies have conclusively demonstrated the benefits of tai chi for falls prevention, chronic disease alleviation and improved memory and cognitive function.

But there’s another benefit of practicing tai chi that doesn’t get as much press. And it has literally changed my life.

When I practice tai chi, I don’t have to calm my mind; the practice does it for me.

I don’t have to pull my thoughts into the present; I’m already there.

And I don’t have to open my heart; half the time during my practice, tears of joy well up in my eyes and I feel one with the universe.

This all happens as part of my tai chi practice, rather something I hope the practice will help me accomplish.

So when I feel like my life is spiraling out of control, I often rely on my tai chi practice to bring me back to my center.

It has rarely failed.