When talking about peace—not the kind that’s temporary or fleeting, but peace that is lasting, peace with longevity in life—we have to realize that to come into that peace, we must first do two things. One, identify what’s keeping it away, what’s keeping it from lasting. And two, create a space where it can thrive.

Recently, I went through a lot of violence within my mind—confusion, insecurity, anger, betrayal, and various other emotions. What I came to realize was that I was clearing the things that had kept me from my peace. As I processed them—as I allowed myself to be angry, to be voiced, to be seen—not in a reactive way, but in an intentional way, I understood that this was part of making space for peace.

I told myself, “This is what I’m feeling, and this is what I’m going to do about it.” Through that process, I learned a few things. First, I wouldn’t recommend doing it like me—chaotically processing whatever comes up. I’d recommend setting your intention first. Let’s say you work through the chakra system, starting with the Root—your sense of security, your anger, your belonging. Work your way up. Every time you feel something connected to a chakra, identify it.

If I feel angry, I understand my Root chakra is activated. But an important reminder: an active chakra and a balanced chakra are two different things. Something can be too active. You can be too angry. You can be too expressive with your Throat chakra—talking too much, saying too much. Too much of a good thing is still too much. We have to learn balance.

That doesn’t mean if you talk a lot, you should stop talking. No. For example, I talk a lot, but I’ve had to learn discernment—when and with whom to speak freely. Sometimes it’s not about changing what I do but about changing the company I do it around. That shift has made a huge difference in how I show up authentically.

Because the goal in all of this is you. When you say, “I want peace,” the I matters—the who, the what, and the why.

If you can identify who wants peace, how peace can show up for that person—whether internally or externally—you’ll better understand why things unfold the way they do. Start simply: What does peace look like to you?

It’s a simple question, but most people overlook it because they assume there’s no depth in simplicity. But there is.

We say things like, “I like to do spa days for self-care.” A teenage boy might say, “I play video games for self-care.” The “I” changes the formula. You have the who, the what, and the why. Why do I want to do it? What do I want to do? Do you want peace because you’re tired? Because life feels scary? Because violence—internal or external—is exhausting? Do you want peace for yourself or so that others can have it?

None of these are right or wrong, but identifying the truth behind them helps you understand how to pursue peace intentionally.

For me, I released. I let go of anger, hurt, pain—from miscarriages, betrayals, and everything that disrupted my peace. And I say this to say: for example, with the children I’ve lost, I’ve had multiple miscarriages. I don’t need a sad or pitied story from this. What I need is understanding—that while the initial pain is sharp, the reminder is just as painful.

When I say “release,” I don’t mean “let go.” I mean reframe. Ask yourself, “How can I think about this in a different light?” Not necessarily a better light, just a different one.

For me, what helped was realizing that my children are with me—whether above or around me. Their spirits support me even in the darkest times. Their essence lives in my son’s laughter, in small moments of joy. Their spirit is still alive even if their bodies never made it.

Everything can be reframed. All it takes is allowing yourself to feel something—not denying it, not neglecting it. Just pause and say, “I’m feeling something.” Then, name it: “I am feeling sad,” “I am feeling angry,” “I am feeling betrayed.” Then go deeper: “I am feeling this because…”

“I’m angry because someone cut me off in line.”

“I’m betrayed because I was cheated on.”

Once you name it, you can step back and ask: Are these feelings really mine?

We often hold onto emotions that aren’t ours. Imitation is a form of flattery, and sometimes we copy emotional patterns from those we admire—even parents who weren’t emotionally mature. Maybe your parent avoided accountability or suppressed emotions. You might’ve learned to process pain by doing the same.

So when you feel anger or hurt, ask: “Where is this thought coming from?” Not necessarily where it originated, but where it was reinforced.

For example, my sense of creativity—linked to my Sacral chakra—didn’t come from a single event. It came from repeated experiences. I’ve had multiple miscarriages, and with each one, I internalized the belief that my body had failed me, that I was unworthy of creation. Over time, that solidified into a fear that I couldn’t create at all.

But then I thought: I’m a writer. How can I not create if I have to create? That realization shifted everything.

So, when we talk about peace—what does it feel like? What does it look like? Is peace something linear, tangible, or is it a feeling? That answer will differ for everyone.

For the feminine embodiment, peace often comes through receptivity—the ability to nurture, to receive, to allow. For the masculine embodiment, peace often comes through contribution—the ability to provide, to move forward, to create direction. This has nothing to do with gender; it’s about energy. We each hold both energies within us.

When these two aspects work in harmony, peace becomes much easier to sustain. The feminine energy receives—she allows awareness of what’s happening, even when it’s uncomfortable. The masculine energy contributes—he steps forward to create or act upon a solution. Together, this creates a balanced interaction within the self: receiving the blockage, and then contributing the solution.

That’s the dance of inner peace. It’s not about rejecting one side or living entirely in the other, but learning how both energies can communicate with one another. The feminine says, “I am open to feeling this.” The masculine says, “Now, here’s how we move with it.” That partnership inside you is where stability begins—where peace becomes a practice, not a pursuit.

Ask yourself: What does peace look like to me? How do I want to embody peace? Why do I want to embody peace? Why is peace something I desire so deeply? Why am I seeking it now?

I encourage you to look at your life through the lens of awareness—which simply means being present enough to notice.

When you go about your day, ask: “What fuels my peace? What disrupts it? What creates it? What simply feels peaceful?”

This is like the red car theory—once you start focusing on peace, you’ll begin to see it everywhere. The more you notice what brings you peace, the more you’ll understand how to nurture it.

I can’t tell you how to find peace, but I can give you the formula to find your own answer.

Me! This article’s visionary voice is mine.

Until next time,

Honestly, Ayala