Episode 4: How I Built Inner Peace (Spoiler: It's Not What You Think)

I used to think inner peace meant sitting cross-legged on a mountain somewhere, completely at peace and unbothered by the chaos of daily life. Turns out, I was completely wrong.

My "inner peace journey" started during one of those overwhelming weeks we all know too well – three tests, a project deadline, relationships falling apart, and college profile preparation all hitting at once. I was lying in bed at midnight, mind racing, when I realized something had to change. I couldn't keep living in constant mental chaos. It’s clearly taking a toll on my health, and is driving me towards bad habits.

That's when I stumbled upon something counterintuitive: the most peaceful people I'd read about weren't the ones avoiding structure – they were the ones who had built incredibly complex yet easy-to-follow routines. Ancient Roman emperors. Modern psychologists. Successful entrepreneurs. They all had one thing in common: they treated inner peace like a skill to practice, not a feeling to achieve.

The Romans Were Onto Something

Marcus Aurelius, as we all know, is the Stoic emperor of the Roman Empire, ruling his kingdom during times of turmoil and famine. Yet his personal journal (which we now call "Meditations") shows someone who maintained remarkable mental clarity. How? Well, he had a daily routine.

Every evening, he'd reflect on his day. Not just "how was today?" like my old journals, but more specific questions: What did I handle well? When did I react emotionally instead of logically? What can I learn from today's challenges? How can I prepare for the next adversity?

I decided to try this - I was desperate for a solution at this point. At first, it felt awkward – like having a formal conversation with myself. But after a few weeks, something clicked. Instead of my thoughts just bouncing around like a brainrot Instagram reel, I started processing experiences more intentionally.

My evening routine was simple: 10 minutes asking myself three questions. What went well? What could I have done differently? What did I learn? That's it. No paid subscriptions to meditation apps or complicated rituals.

The morning part was even simpler. I'd read one short passage from Marcus Aurelius or another Stoic philosopher, then set one intention for the day. Not a massive goal like "be amazing at everything," but something specific like "listen and think before responding" or "stay calm during that difficult conversation with my parents."

The Psychology Behind It

During his research and writing the Adlerian theory, Alfred Adler spoke of this: most of our inner chaos comes from living unaligned with our actual values. We say we care about health but eat junk food. We claim to value learning but waste hours on mindless scrolling. This disconnect creates constant low-level stress. This stress piles up and ruins our lives.

Adler called this "lifestyle inconsistency," and it's everywhere in teenage life. We're constantly told what we should value, but rarely asked what we actually value. The result? We end up living someone else's priorities while feeling increasingly disconnected from ourselves.

I realized I was doing this constantly. I'd claim academics were important while procrastinating for hours. I'd say I valued my friendships while being too lazy to reach out when friends seemed like they needed me the most. No wonder I felt scattered.

And the fix wasn't about being perfect – it was about getting honest. Honest with yourself. If I was going to spend time on social media, I'd own that choice instead of feeling guilty about it later. If friendship mattered to me, I'd actually show up for my friends instead of just worrying about them.

What My Routine Actually Looks Like

Here's the thing – I'm still a teenager with a chaotic schedule, demanding parents, and approximately 47 different things to worry about at any given moment. So my "inner peace practice" had to be realistic.

Morning (15 minutes max): I wake up and read one quote from a Stoic while drinking coffee. Not because I'm trying to be intellectual, but because it gives my brain something solid to focus on instead of immediately jumping to my anxiety playlist.

Then I ask myself one question: "What can I do to progress today?" This shifts my focus from "what terrible things might happen to me" to "what can I contribute." Game-changer.

Evening (10 minutes): Before bed, I do a quick mental review. I think of one specific moment when I handled something well, one moment I could have done better, and one thing I learned. I write this down on my phone – nothing fancy, just a few sentences. It’s the act of doing it that counts.

Weekly check-in: Sunday nights, I look at the bigger picture. Are my daily habits actually supporting what I claim to care about? If I say creativity matters but haven't touched my digital design in two weeks, that's useful information, and also a good reminder to touch on that.

The Unexpected Results

I thought this routine might make me more disciplined or productive (it did, slightly). But the biggest change was different: I stopped feeling like I was constantly fighting against myself.

You know that exhausting feeling when part of you wants to study but the other part wants to scroll Instagram, and you end up doing nothing? That started happening way WAY less. Not because I became perfect, but because I got clearer about what I actually wanted and why. I became honest with myself, more accepting of who I am.

My anxiety didn't just evaporate into thin air – I'm still a high schooler in 2025, after all. But it became more manageable. Instead of vague, overwhelming worry, problems started feeling like specific challenges with specific solutions.

The weirdest benefit? I started enjoying my own company more. Those moments alone with my thoughts went from uncomfortable to actually kind of pleasant. Turns out, when you regularly process your experiences instead of just accumulating them, your mind becomes a nicer place to hang out. It was almost addicting being in my own company.

Why This Works (And What Doesn't)

The key insight from both approaches of ancient philosophy and modern psychology is this: peace isn't about having a perfect life. It's about having a consistent way of responding to an imperfect life.

When you have daily practices that connect you to your values, unexpected problems feel less threatening. You're not scrambling to figure out who you are and what matters – you already know because you remind yourself every day.

But here's what doesn't work: trying to be someone else. Living up to someone else’s expectations of you. I initially tried copying other people's elaborate morning routines and failed spectacularly. The practices that stuck were the ones that I made, I committed to, and actually fit my personality and schedule.

Also, perfection is the enemy. I miss days sometimes. I get lazy with my evening reflections or skip my morning reading when I'm rushing. The practice works because I come back to it, not because I never mess up. Sometimes, progress doesn’t look like a stairway, but more like the stock market.

"How I Built Inner Peace (Spoiler: It's Not What You Think)"

Start Small, Stay Consistent

If this resonates with you, start small. Pick one tiny thing: read one paragraph of something meaningful in the morning, or spend two minutes before bed thinking about what went well that day.

The goal isn't to become a perfectly disciplined person overnight. It's to build a gentle, sustainable way of staying connected to what actually matters to you amid all the chaos. Remember, the important thing isn’t to do something you aren’t willing to, but it’s about building something you yourself are happy with.

What's one small practice you could try this week? Not because you should, but because it might actually help you feel more like yourself in a world that's constantly trying to make you feel scattered.

The ancient Romans called it building "the citadel of the self" – an inner fortress that stays steady no matter what's happening outside. And I believe, in our current world, we could all use one of those.