When Rory gets mad, it’s like watching a heavy thunderstorm. She huffs and puffs and wails and rains down thunder and hail with zero abandon.
And then, she’s fine. The sun comes back up. Her blue eyes shine again. And all is well in toddler-land.
It never ceases to ASTOUND me how, when that thunderstorm passes, it’s long gone. Not a cloud in sight.
What have I learned from my little guru because of this fascinating behavioral trait?
Thought just passes through (if we let it).
We do this naturally as kids, but when we become ‘socialized’ we teach ourselves to hold on to our pain so as to (a) avoid embarrassment and (b) not make the grown-ups mad.
We bottle up the thunderstorm and expect it to just… go away. (But how can it, if it’s still in the bottle?)
Here’s an analogy that’s helped me with this…
Once a thunderstorm shows up, the only way to make it a bad thing is if we buy into the drama of it. When we become scared of it, ashamed of it, or angered by it.
Most of us are crazy enough to even go outside and try to fight the thunderstorm to make it go away.
Yet, the thunderstorm just dumps rain on us as it floats by — likely wondering just what the hell we’re doing outside in the rain like that.
Try this on for size. If you’re in a safe spot to watch the storm from, enjoy watching it. If you happen to be out in the middle of it — raise your arms towards the heavens and feel its power. Soon, it’ll be gone. And once it is, the only place it can stay is in your mind.
We might not be able to make thunderstorms go away, but we can at least lessen the damage while they’re rolling through and let them go once they’re gone.