Amale Bouzlafa

Why does being on edge feel more comfortable than being calm?

Why does staying in movement feel easier than slowing down?

If you feel like you can’t really chill, if calm makes you restless or uncomfortable, this is for you.

In a previous piece, I talked about why intensity is not power.
Here, I want to talk about something slightly different:
why intensity can feel necessary, even when it’s not actually helping you.

Because for a lot of people, intensity isn’t about strength.
It’s about control.

The real reason intensity feels good

Here’s the core idea:

Being constantly active, alert, in motion
often brings back a sense of control.

Most people don’t realize that.

They think:

• “I’m disciplined.”
• “I’m productive.”
• “I work better like this.”
• “This is just my personality.”

But most of the time, that’s not what’s happening.

It’s not about power.
It’s not even about discipline.

It’s about staying in control of your internal state.

You may have noticed this already.

What calm actually does

When everything is calm —
when nothing is demanding your attention —
something uncomfortable shows up.

You feel agitated.
You struggle to stay present.
You feel an urge to move, to do something, to distract yourself.

That calm doesn’t feel peaceful.

It feels exposing.

And the reason is simple:
calm removes distractions.

When distractions disappear,
you’re left with yourself.

That’s the part most people aren’t comfortable with.

The uncomfortable truth

So here’s the truth that matters:

It’s not that movement makes you strong.
It’s not that intensity gives you power.

It’s that intensity keeps you in control.

Underneath that need for control, there’s often:

• fear of being exposed,
• fear of vulnerability,
• fear of sitting with feelings you’d rather not feel.

Intensity creates a buffer.
It keeps things contained.
It keeps you from having to sit still long enough for anything deeper to surface.

A small experiment

You can see this very clearly if you try something simple.

Sit still for a few minutes, without your phone, without music or tasks.

Just sit.

Notice what happens.

Is there tension?
An urge to move?
An impulse to “do something” just to break the stillness?

If that feels uncomfortable, that’s not a failure.
That’s information.

A necessary clarification

This isn’t about telling you to stop acting or doing things.

Action is not the problem.

What we’re looking at is when stopping feels impossible.
When stillness feels unbearable.
When you have to stay active to feel okay.

That’s a very different thing.

The “I work better under pressure”

A common example of this shows up in work.

Some people only function under pressure.
Deadlines.
Urgency.
Last-minute stress.

On calm days, they feel foggy.
They procrastinate.
They scroll.

Under pressure, they’re sharp and focused.

So they say:
“I work better under pressure.”

But what’s actually happening is this:

Pressure gives structure.
Calm removes it.

Without pressure, there’s nothing holding them together internally.
They feel exposed and uncontained.

Urgency gives direction.
Urgency gives control.

It’s not that pressure makes them perform better, it’s that calm leaves them alone with themselves.

How this shows up elsewhere

This isn’t just about work.

You see it in relationships,
when calm relationships feel boring or empty
and drama feels intense and magnetic.

You see it with anger,
when anger becomes fuel
because without it, everything feels flat.

You see it with busyness, always moving, always doing because stopping feels uncomfortable.

In all of these cases,
movement becomes a way to avoid stillness,
and intensity becomes a way to avoid exposure.

A distinction that matters

Busyness isn’t always productivity.
Movement isn’t always strength.

Sometimes it’s just avoidance
disguised as control.

And the reason it’s hard to see
is because constant motion doesn’t leave room
to notice what’s underneath.

Where the shift actually happens

So the real question isn’t:
“How do I calm down more?”

It’s:
“What shows up for me when I slow down?”

Because intensity doesn’t feel necessary because it works.
It feels necessary because it protects.

And once you see that, without trying to fix it immediately, things begin to shift on their own.

Silence is enough here.

Trusting it will bring some light to someone’s shadow,

Amale 💫💙