What could you do less of?
Reacting.
For much of my life, I treated every perceived slight as a call to arms — as if every misunderstanding demanded an immediate defense. But I’m learning that not everything needs my reaction. Some moments only ask for my attention.
When I feel wronged, my body responds before my mind catches up. My heart races, my jaw tightens, my breath shortens. The instinct to protect myself flares fast and fierce.
Lately, I’ve been practicing the pause — noticing the sensations instead of obeying them, letting the surge of emotion roll through before deciding what to do next. That pause has become sacred space — small, but expansive enough for clarity to enter.
I ask myself: Did they mean to hurt me? Do I really need to defend myself here? Will reacting make anything better?
Most often, the answer is no. And honestly, reacting rarely makes me feel better anyway. It usually leaves me drained, guilty, or frustrated — the kind of heaviness that lingers long after the heat of the situation fades.
Still, this is very much a work in progress. I can — and do — get swept up sometimes, especially when my basic needs aren’t met. When I’m tired, hungry, or stretched too thin, that low, buzzy restlessness takes over and patience slips away faster than I’d like. In those moments, old instincts roar back to life. The difference now is that I notice sooner. I recover faster.
Recognizing my own patterns — especially when I’m depleted — has made me more compassionate with my kids when they’re overwhelmed too.
When they hit their own emotional storms — those tearful, trembling tempests that feel larger than life — I try to steady myself first. I hold them close, breathe with them, and search for what might help: a hug, a quiet corner, a change in tone.
Sometimes I get it right. Sometimes I don’t. But every time, the goal is the same — to model calm before correction, connection before control.
So I breathe. I soften. I let the first wave of reaction pass, both theirs and mine. What remains feels powerful — not because it conquers emotion, but because it transforms it.
Doing less reacting isn’t passivity. It’s a practice — a daily choice to protect peace over pride, to pause long enough to hear what really matters.
Day by day, breath by breath.
If this resonates with you, take a moment today to notice your next emotional wave — big or small — and give yourself the gift of a pause. Observe before reacting. Then share your experience in the comments or pass this piece along to someone who’s also learning to slow down, breathe, and choose peace over impulse. And subscribe for more personal reflections and self-improvement.
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