Peace in Chaos: Why Silence Isn’t Always Safe

When most people picture peace, they imagine quiet—stillness, calm, and silence. For many, this sounds restorative. But for those with a trauma history, silence can be anything but peaceful.

In fact, sitting in mere silence can act as a trigger. When the body and environment feel “safe enough,” the brain may begin to process stored memories. The hippocampus starts to retrieve, the amygdala sounds alarms, the temporal lobes replay fragments, and the prefrontal cortex works to make sense of it all. What might look like a calm moment on the outside becomes an internal storm of memory, sensation, and feeling.

This is why many trauma survivors—children and adults alike—find it difficult to tolerate stillness. The feelings can be so intense it feels like the skin is crawling. To release the pressure, some create chaos: conflict, busyness, constant motion. Others immerse themselves in loud or stimulating environments because it provides an anchor, keeping the occipital and frontal portions of the brain engaged in the now, rather than pulled back into the then.

For me personally, I often find more peace working in a bustling restaurant than in a silent room. The hum of voices, clattering dishes, and movement actually help me focus. The noise occupies just enough of my brain’s bandwidth to quiet the intrusive activations that silence can stir up.

This is an important reminder: behaviors are never “just behaviors.” They are physiological responses, often deeply rooted in trauma. When we see chaos, conflict, or constant busyness, it may not be defiance or dysfunction—it may be survival.

But here’s the hope: the trauma brain can heal. Neuroplasticity allows the brain to rewire, to calm those overactive alarm systems and build new pathways of safety. With empathy, understanding, and consistent support, silence can eventually become less threatening and more restorative. It will not always be this way. Healing may not erase the past, but it gives the nervous system new options—new ways of being at peace without chaos.

Understanding this shifts the narrative. Instead of asking, “What’s wrong with you?” we begin asking, “What happened to you?” And from there, we can offer compassion, connection, and strategies that honor the brain’s wiring while creating pathways to healing.

~Dr. Abi