In 2023, an astonishing 43 million songs were released on streaming platforms. Forty-three million.
Think about that. In an age where everything feels excessive, from the demands on our time to the constant pings of our devices, this staggering number encapsulates the sheer volume of noise we’re navigating. Everyone, everywhere, for everything, everyhow, needs to calm down. This isn’t just a plea for sanity. For many of us, it’s a survival strategy. If the human species has any hope of enduring the digital cacophony we’ve created, it begins with a collective exhale.
The irony of modern life is that, in our quest to be more connected, informed, and efficient, we’ve become frenzied, distracted, and perpetually dissatisfied. There’s always another email to answer, another notification to check, another trend to catch up on. Even leisure, the sacred reprieve from the daily grind, has been co-opted by a relentless productivity culture. Now we must meditate like pros, exercise with Olympic precision, and vacation with Instagram-worthy flair. What’s the result? We’re exhausted. But more than that, we’re lost.
At the heart of this chaos is the cult of more. More speed, more efficiency, more output, more followers, more likes. Social media platforms, workplaces, and even our personal relationships tell us that if we’re not doing more, we’re failing. This mindset has trickled into every aspect of our lives. Dinner with friends isn’t just dinner; it’s content. A weekend hike isn’t a chance to unwind; it’s a fitness goal. And forbid we have a moment of idleness. We’re told to seize the day, optimize our time, or risk wasting our potential.
Where does this relentless pursuit of more lead? Well, we’re all burned out. But it also leads to a kind of spiritual emptiness. We’re so busy reaching for the next thing that we forget to appreciate the thing in front of us. And while there’s nothing wrong with ambition or progress, it’s worth asking: At what cost?
Adding fuel to the fire is what I call the anxiety economy. Corporations and influencers have monetized our fear of falling behind, of not being enough, of missing out. Apps promise to make us more productive, fitness trackers remind us we haven’t moved enough, and algorithms tailor our feeds to show us exactly how much cooler, richer, or fitter other people are.
The 43 million songs released last year are a perfect metaphor for this overload. How can anyone keep up? The truth is we can’t. And that’s okay. This pressure to consume, produce, and excel in a world of endless options is not only unrealistic but unhealthy. We don’t need to listen to every track, watch every show, or follow every trend. We need to give ourselves permission to tune out.
So how do we calm down? How do we resist the pull of more and reclaim our peace in a world that thrives on our restlessness? The answer is deceptively simple: Do less.
Of course, “doing less” is easier said than done. It requires us to unlearn deeply ingrained habits and rewire our expectations. It means saying no to things that don’t serve us, even if they seem important. It means prioritizing rest, play, and connection, not as luxuries but as necessities.
Start small. Put your phone on airplane mode for an hour. Cancel a meeting that doesn’t need to happen. Sit in a park without an agenda. It’s amazing how much space we can create in our lives when we stop trying to fill every moment.
Another powerful antidote to the chaos is mindfulness. Not the kind you perform for an audience but the kind you practice quietly, for yourself. This form of mindfulness isn’t about achieving enlightenment or checking another box on your self-improvement list. It’s about being present. About noticing the way sunlight filters through your window, the sound of birds outside, the taste of your morning coffee. It’s about slowing down enough to actually live your life, instead of racing through it.
Sometimes, calming down also means zooming out. When we’re caught up in daily demands, it’s easy to lose sight of the bigger picture. But perspective is a powerful thing. It reminds us that most of what we’re stressing over won’t matter in a year, let alone a decade.
Think about it: How many of your anxieties from five years ago are still relevant today? Probably very few. And yet, in the moment, they felt all-consuming. Recognizing this pattern can be liberating. It doesn’t mean our struggles aren’t real, but it does mean we don’t have to let them define us.
Finally, let’s talk about the role we play in each other’s frenzy. Our culture of overdrive isn’t just an individual problem; it’s a collective one. We’ve all contributed to the noise, whether by glorifying busyness, competing over who’s more stressed, or perpetuating unrealistic standards on social media.
But just as we’ve built this culture, we can unbuild it. We can celebrate slowness, encourage balance, and model boundaries. We can remind each other that it’s okay to rest, to disconnect, to say no. We can create spaces—both online and offline—where calm is valued over chaos, where people feel safe to breathe and just be.
In a way, calming down is a radical act. It’s a rebellion against a system that profits from our frenzy. It’s a refusal to let external pressures dictate our internal state. And it’s a declaration that we, as human beings, are enough.
As I write this, I’m acutely aware of the irony. A 1,000-word column urging people to calm down might seem like I’m part of the problem. But I hope is that I offer more clarity than clutter. That they serve as a gentle nudge toward a simpler, saner way of being.
The truth is, life isn’t meant to be a race. It’s meant to be lived. And the sooner we all calm down, the sooner we can start doing just that.
