The Sanctuary Was Always There

Life’s Endless Noise

The notification sounds never stop. Between work emails, family obligations, social media updates, and the constant hum of modern life, finding a moment of genuine quiet feels almost impossible. I remember standing in my kitchen last Tuesday morning, coffee in hand, when three different devices started buzzing simultaneously – my phone with a text, my laptop with a meeting reminder, and the washing machine announcing it was done. In that moment, I felt completely scattered, like pieces of myself were being pulled in every direction. But the part that stayed with me was this: I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt like myself. Not the employee, not the parent, not the person trying to keep everyone happy – just me. That’s when Hermann Hesse’s words hit differently: “Within you, there is a stillness and a sanctuary to which you can retreat at any time and be yourself.” I’d read that quote before, probably shared it on social media, but I’d never actually believed it was true.

Hermann’s Wisdom

Hermann Hesse wrote those words during some of the darkest periods of his life, when he was hospitalized for depression and felt like he was losing his mind. He wasn’t writing from a place of enlightened wisdom – he was writing from desperation. The man who would become one of our most celebrated spiritual writers was, at that moment, just someone who felt completely lost and was searching for solid ground. Here’s what he discovered that changed everything: stillness isn’t something you achieve when your life gets quiet. It’s something you can access even when everything is falling apart. Especially then. Hesse realized that underneath all the noise – external and internal – there’s a part of us that remains untouched by chaos. Not because it’s protected, but because it simply exists beyond the reach of circumstances. The sanctuary he wrote about wasn’t a reward for good behavior or spiritual practice. It was home base. It was always there.

Richard’s Discovery

I think about Richard Rohr, the Franciscan priest who spent decades teaching others about spiritual growth before he had his own moment of reckoning. In his seventies, Rohr admitted something that shocked his followers: despite all his knowledge about contemplative practice, he realized he’d been performing spirituality rather than living it. The man who had written extensively about finding God in quiet reflection confessed that he’d been so busy being a spiritual teacher that he’d forgotten how to simply be. His turning point came during a period of illness when he was forced to stop doing and start being. Lying in a hospital bed, unable to teach or write or help anyone, Rohr discovered what he’d been pointing others toward for years – that quiet place within that doesn’t depend on our accomplishments or even our efforts. He learned that the sanctuary isn’t something we find through spiritual practice; spiritual practice is what happens when we remember the sanctuary was always there.

What I Actually Learned

I used to think finding inner peace meant I needed to be better at meditation, or that I should wake up earlier for quiet time, or that I was failing because my mind wandered during prayer. The truth I stumbled into is messier and more forgiving. Last month, I was stuck in traffic on my way to a meeting I was already late for, feeling that familiar surge of anxiety, when something shifted. Instead of fighting the feeling or trying to calm down, I just… stopped. Not the car – that was still stuck behind a massive construction delay. But something inside me stopped pushing. For maybe thirty seconds, I wasn’t the person who was late, or stressed, or trying to figure out how to apologize for something that wasn’t my fault. I was just there. Present in my own skin. It wasn’t dramatic or mystical. It was ordinary in the most extraordinary way.

That’s when I realized the sanctuary isn’t a place I go to escape my life. It’s a place I return to in the middle of my life. When I’m washing dishes and actually feel the warm water on my hands instead of mentally rehearsing tomorrow’s to-do list. When I pause for three breaths before responding to a difficult email. When I sit in my car for an extra minute after arriving somewhere, just to remember who I am before I put on whatever role the situation requires.

Today’s Simple Return

Here’s what I want you to try, and it’s not what you think. Don’t set aside special time or create perfect conditions. Instead, sometime today when you feel most scattered – maybe when you’re multitasking or running late or dealing with someone difficult – pause for just long enough to notice that you’re there. Not the person handling the situation, but the you that’s aware of the situation. That observer, that witness – that’s your sanctuary. It’s been watching this whole time, waiting for you to remember it exists.

Coming Home

Hermann Hesse was right, but maybe not in the way we usually interpret his words. The sanctuary within isn’t a peaceful place we retreat to when life gets hard. It’s the part of us that remains steady while life happens around us and through us. It’s not separate from our messy, complicated existence – it’s the ground we stand on in the middle of it all. You don’t have to earn access to this place or perfect your practice to find it. You just have to stop long enough to notice you’re already there.

Start Now

Not tomorrow when you have more time. Not when your life is less chaotic. Right now, take one breath and notice that you’re breathing. That awareness, that simple recognition – that’s you coming home to yourself. Do it again when you need to remember who you are underneath everything else you’re carrying. The sanctuary isn’t going anywhere. It’s been waiting.