The Calm I Bring to the Threshold
The calm I bring to the threshold is the most important thing I bring. Everything else is secondary.
Have you developed, by now, an awareness of your own breath in the few moments before a transition? The small lift of the shoulders that wants to happen. The small tightening of the jaw. The way your hands sometimes find each other. These are honest body responses to moments that have asked something of you before. You do not have to scold them. You can notice them and breathe a little deeper, on purpose.
The calm you bring to the threshold is the most important thing you bring. More important than the right words. More important than the right outfit. More important than the right tone. Your children read your breath before they read your face. They read your face before they read your words. If the breath is steady and the face is soft, the words can be quite small and still do all the work that needs doing.
You can practice this. Before a transition, find a quiet thirty seconds. Sit somewhere or stand somewhere. Let the shoulders drop. Let the jaw soften. Take three slow breaths — three of them, with the jaw soft — and notice your feet on the floor. Say a small thing to yourself: I am steady. I am here. I can do this small thing well. Then begin.
You will not always feel calm. You do not have to feel calm to act calm. First the action. Then the repetition. Then, slowly, the felt calm that catches up from behind. In the meantime, the children meet the calm you have chosen to act in, and they are reassured by it, even when your inner self is still working to catch up. You are the small kept harbor at the doorway. The water just outside may be rough. The water on your side is the water you keep.
Today, before one transition, take the thirty seconds. Find the steady breath. Bring the calm to the doorway. Notice what happens.