The Art of Unresponse

Reclaiming Your Circle of Thought

We are under siege…

Not in the dramatic sense of tanks or armies—but in the subtler, quieter way that wears us down from within. A million tiny messages, alerts, images, ads, opinions—each one knocking, pulling, poking. Each one asking for our energy, our reaction, our self. What about those that are truly under siege—a physical attack?

To be awake in today’s world is to recognize this bombardment for what it is: a distortion of presence. A dismembering of peace.

We are not meant to digest this much noise.

And yet—we don’t just receive the noise. We often become it. Our nervous systems pick it up, amplify it, spin it back out. We argue. We worry. We share. We scroll. We drown in the waves of reaction. But what if we didn’t?

What if our highest state of awareness
wasn’t in responding to everything—
but in letting some things pass through like wind through a screen door?

This is what I’m learning:
My truth is my responsibility.

It is not the world’s job to match my vibration.
It is mine to maintain the frequency I choose to live by.

And that choice—the circle of thought I inhabit—is sacred space. Not everything gets in. Not every opinion deserves a seat. Not every headline gets my heart.

To be fully awake means to notice energy before it enters.
And sometimes, the most powerful response is no response at all.

That’s the beauty of Zen, isn’t it?
The ability to do nothing.

To sit still while the wind blows.
To breathe slowly while the world screams.
To hold your ground—not with force, but with peace.

This is not denial.
This is not apathy.

It is discernment.
It is alignment.

It is the sacred pause between impulse and action.

Discernment doesn’t mean turning away from suffering—it means meeting it from a place of presence, not panic.
To choose stillness is not to ignore, but to see more clearly. To hear beneath the noise.
From that grounded place, action becomes conscious.
Not everything deserves our immediate reaction.
Some things need our steadiness more than our speed.

The Tao teaches that the strongest tree is not the one that resists the storm,
but the one that bends with the wind.
Presence isn’t about being unshaken—it’s about returning, again and again, to stillness.
Birds do not chase every gust.
They ride the wind, then land when it passes.
We, too, can respond like that.

It is recognizing that when I unplug from the constant demand to perform, react, correct, defend—I return to a deeper knowing. One that doesn’t need to be loud to be true.

From this still place, I can see the troubles of the world more clearly—and respond more wisely. Not reactively. Not with urgency. But with clarity. With love. More grounded.

That is my responsibility.
That is my power.
That is my ability to respond.

And sometimes, that ability says:
“This is not mine to carry.”

Or simply:
“I see. And I let it pass.”

Let us remember today: not everything must be answered.
Some energies are just passing weather.
We are not the sky’s chaos.
We are the stillness that watches the sky.

Join the movement.
Unplug. Breathe. Come home to your center.
Mark your calendar for IAMday — September 24, 2025.
Let’s rise, together.

IAMday.org