Developing A Practice of Preemptive Stillness: What I Learned from Mother Teresa

Joanna Stamps’ inability to be still led her to one brick wall after another. Stillness was the necessary wrecking ball.  

What does life normally feel like, especially when we’re struggling through major life losses?

I don’t know about you, but often, I have filled my life with so many tasks just to keep myself busy. I rush through life and just hit one brick wall after another, similar to a ‘90s-style video game. As I get stuck and hit the same brick wall, I see my lifelines depleting in the upper right-hand corner until I get the big “Game Over” indicator covering the screen and throw down the controller. In this final moment, I often say something like, “It’s all just too much.”

That’s my life when I don’t prioritize silence and stillness.

All along the way, with each brick wall, we repeat the same words: “I just don’t have time to sit still.”

I hear you. As a single mom, caregiver, and entrepreneur, my life is not synonymous with the concept of quiet and stillness. I had to learn this lesson the hard way:

“I need stillness to the measure of which I need to be present to myself and others.”

About 90% (if not more) of my daily activities require me to be present. I don’t have the luxury of checking out for my clients, child, parents, or creative endeavors. My work is about learning to be present with ourselves and our emotions and noticing the distractions that keep us from doing this important work.

What Could Go Wrong?

What happens if I can’t model this for others?

When we’re not present with others, we often go into fix-it mode. We say the things that pop into our mind just to try to solve someone’s problem fast. We don’t truly listen to them. We want to say those magic words to make them feel better, so we can move on with our lives even if they can’t move on with theirs.

Someone might tell a friend to “just stop thinking” about that haunting image from their past or to “move on.” This lack of compassion is fed by our inability to be able to be still with ourselves.

What Could Go Right?

One day, at the base of one of my “Game Over” brick walls, I thought of what I was being called to do and be. Images of great spiritual leaders came to mind, and I laughed to myself and said, “That’s impossible! The Mother Teresas of the world spend hours in silence each day. If I need to be that type of person, then I might as well give up now. I live in the modern world, and we don’t have time like that, right?”

But my own spiritual director did not give up on me so quickly. He kept whispering questions like, “Johanna, when are you resting?”

What Happened?

Eventually, I surrendered to the call and began carving out a few hours a week, then a day a week, and then hours each day. With each extra hour, I received more lifelines in my personal video game. The walls got smaller until I could start jumping over them.

As I sat in places of stillness in prayerful meditation, I was able to start hearing my own heart. I heard the truth in those silent moments: “Johanna, this is where you are filled. Come back here often.” With each hour in restful silence and stillness, I found myself less anxious and more clear-headed. Questions that would often become a brick wall of discernment were already answered before I approached them.

What used to be a place of just trying to get beyond one lifeline became a daily experience of keeping lifelines full. Surprisingly, the latter is far easier.

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Copyright 2026 Johanna Stamps
Images: Canva