Stillness is a Skill

When uncertainty hangs in the air like unspoken unease, remaining calm is a life skill, it isn’t just an emotional state. And at the heart of this skill lies a surprising tool, that is communication.

As a student of communication, I have come to realize that how we speak, listen and even stay silent shapes the emotional climate around us. Calm is not inherited. It is crafted, rehearsed and communicated, both to others and to us. Especially in environments heavy with tension, our inner dialogue and interpersonal exchanges can either anchor us or accelerate our unravelling

They say the volume of your voice sets the temperature of the room. In a household where everyone is anxious—a child glancing at adults, an elder clutching a prayer bead—a raised voice does more than expressing concern; it transfers it. Calm communication begins with tone. If you speak slowly and softly, your nervous system begins to follow. Even better, others often mirror your pace and energy. It’s not about being artificially “positive.” It’s about being emotionally breathable. Thinking of your voice as a thermostat. The warmer the tension, the cooler you need to be.

Besides, silence is the most powerful communication tool we usually ignore. We often see silence as absence. But it is presence of the highest order. Intentional silence is grounding. It’s the pause between breaths, the moment between thoughts. In a charged environment, resist the urge to fill every silence. Instead, allow it. Sit beside others without speaking. Gently hold space. Communication isn’t just about words; it’s about energy transmission. And silence, when chosen, speaks volumes.

Communication isn’t limited to speaking with others. It begins with how we speak to ourselves. If your internal language sounds like “Everything is falling apart,” then your body will behave as if that is true. Reframe it. Replace “This is terrifying” with “I am adjusting.” Swap “I am trapped” with “I am pausing.” Our mind follows our language. Use metaphors to soften fear. Assert “This is a storm—but storms pass.” Words reshape the inner world. And that world determines our wellbeing.

Often, we think being a good communicator is about what we say. But in tough times, it’s really about how we listen. Elders might want to speak in slices. Children may ask the same question over and over again. Listen anyway. Listening without interruption, without rushing and without judgment becomes a form of ‘soul recall’, an emotional resuscitation. It keeps people breathing when fear tries to suffocate their body. When someone speaks, let your eyes say, “You matter.” That is more healing than any advice.

Of course, information overload is real. In tensed times, we consume news like junk food, compulsively and without limits. But the brain digests fear. And too much unfiltered information can besiege the mind. Set communication boundaries. Choose trusted sources to stay accurately informed without being overwhelmed. Allocate a short, fixed window to catch up. Then, switch to something grounding: a book, a prayer, a podcast or video on well-being or something light. This isn’t denial. It’s hygiene. Our brains, like our phones, overheat. Sometimes the best way to calm down is to log off. Offline is calming.

Communication isn’t only verbal. Aroma, song, or sensory triggers communicate safety to the brain. Burn aromatic incense associated with a nice place. Play a favourite song you used to hum. Hold a cup that reminds you of good days. These “non-verbal cues” tell your brain— “I have been through things before. I am still standing.”

Being still doesn’t mean you are unmindful to what is going on around you. It means you are choosing how to respond. Through tone, silence, listening, self-talk and even media habits—you communicate safety, to yourself and to those around you.

Remember, in unsure and tough times, there is no greater service than being a calm communicator. Because when the world speaks in noise, calm becomes the language of peace, resilience and grace.