We Treat a Numb Body as an Emergency, But a Numb Soul as Normal
I came across a quote recently that stopped me dead in my tracks.
“Most of us would be seized with fear if our bodies went numb, and would do everything possible to avoid it, yet we take no interest at all in the numbing of our souls.” — Epictetus (quoted in Stillness Is the Key)
I read it once.
Then again.
Then I just sat there.
Because he’s right. I witness it day after day, especially in the work we do.
If your arm went numb, you’d panic.
You’d Google.
You’d call someone.
You’d ask: What’s wrong? What do I do? How do I fix this?
But when your inner world goes numb?
We normalize it.
We distract ourselves from it.
We scroll past it.
We drink over it.
We work through it.
We label it “being busy” or “being strong” or “just this season of life.”
And quietly… we lose touch with ourselves.
We Are a Culture Obsessed With Numbing
We numb with:
constant noise
endless stimulation
productivity as identity
outrage as dopamine
busyness as avoidance
Not because we’re weak.
Not because we don’t care.
Not because we’re bad people.
But because sitting with uncertainty, discomfort, grief, fear, or emptiness feels unbearable when we’ve never been taught how.
So instead of asking:
What is my soul trying to tell me?
We ask:
What can I do to not feel this?
And over time, that avoidance doesn’t just mute pain.
It mutes joy.
It mutes connection.
It mutes empathy.
It mutes humanity.
This is how we become sharp with each other.
This is how we dehumanize people.
This is how we forget how to listen, feel, and stay present.
Not because we’re cruel —
But because we’re numb.
The 21 Day Tech Fast
Which is why, Monday, January 12, I started a sort of “fast” from all non-essential technology for 21 days.
Not as a reset.
Not as a productivity hack.
Not as a statement.
But as a return.
A return to my body.
A return to silence.
A return to listening, not just to myself, but to a higher power.
I’ve felt the call clearly:
Stop numbing. Get back to presence. Let yourself hear what’s underneath.
Because intuition doesn’t shout.
It whispers.
And you can’t hear whispers in constant noise.
This isn’t about restriction.
It’s about reconnection.
What Comes Back When You Stop Numbing
When you stop running, something incredible happens, slowly.
You regain:
peace that isn’t fragile
joy that isn’t dependent
relationships that are real
freedom that isn’t performative
You become less reactive.
More present.
More human.
Not because life gets easier.
But because you are no longer absent from it.
And that, to me, is the tragedy Epictetus named centuries ago and the one we’re living inside now:
We would do anything to save a numb body.
But we not only abandon numb souls every day we seem to be sprinting towards the opportunity.
A Quiet Question
I don’t have a ten-step plan here.
Just a question I’m sitting with and maybe you will too:
Where have I learned to tolerate numbness that I would never accept in my body?
And maybe, if it feels right:
What might change if I treated my inner life with the same urgency, care, and curiosity I give my physical one?
Stillness won’t save the world.
But it might save something essential in you.
And sometimes… that’s where everything else begins.
