I Can Meet You Without Becoming You
This morning I walked to the loo slowly.
That sounds ridiculous as the opening to a personal-development insight, but it matters.
I was not rushing to get there and rushing to get back. I noticed the workshop around me. I walked softly. My body was relaxed. My eyes were softer. My mind was running at Morris Minor speed instead of Formula One.
On the way back I bumped into someone working here.
He was operating at workshop pace: elevated, busy, under pressure, moving quickly. That is normal in model making. There is always a client wanting a change, then another change, then asking for the first version back after ten revisions.
We spoke.
I did not match his pace, but I noticed myself rise from the calm baseline I had chosen. I spoke a little quicker. I felt the stress level lift.
That was the lesson.
Other People Have a Tempo
We naturally respond to the state of the person in front of us.
Someone is excited, we become more animated.
Someone whispers, we lower our voice.
Someone is rushing, we speed up.
Someone is angry, we can feel ourselves rise to meet them.
Some of that is normal human connection. The problem comes when another person’s state starts controlling our own.
The aim is not to become emotionally flat.
It is not to become Mr Soft floating through life while everyone else operates in the real world.
It is to keep ownership of the dial.
If someone arrives at 80 and I am comfortably at 30, I do not have to jump to 80.
I might move to 40 or 45.
Enough to connect.
Enough to listen.
Enough to help.
But not enough to inherit their nervous system.
I Can Meet You Without Becoming You
That may be the principle.
I can meet you without becoming you.
Your state can be hurried.
Mine does not have to be.
Your voice can be loud.
Mine does not have to follow.
Your irritation can be real.
I can understand it without absorbing it.
Your enthusiasm can raise me because sometimes that is enjoyable.
But I still decide how far my own dial moves.
This morning I helped calmly. I offered advice. I said that if he needed help, I was there.
Then I disengaged and carried on.
Nothing dramatic happened.
That is exactly the point.
The work is not always about surviving explosive moments.
It is also about noticing the tiny moments when someone else’s pace nudges mine upward.
The Skill Is Returning
I am going to be pulled away from my chosen baseline repeatedly.
A phone will ring.
An email will land.
Someone will be rushing.
A client will change their mind for the eleventh time.
Something will irritate me.
The target cannot be never moving.
The skill is noticing that I have moved and returning.
Notice. Soften. Return.
No criticism.
No internal lecture.
No demand that I should have remained perfectly calm.
Just return.
Relax the hands.
Soften the eyes.
Drop the shoulders.
Breathe normally.
Slow the words.
Continue.
Morris Minor Living
I like the image of Morris Minor living.
It does not mean doing nothing.
It does not mean becoming slow, sleepy or ineffective.
It means travelling at a speed where I can see the road.
There is room to react.
There is room to think.
There is room to enjoy what is around me.
The Formula One engine is still available when it is genuinely needed.
But I do not need qualifying pace to walk to the toilet, read an email or speak to someone who happens to be having a frantic morning.
The calmer baseline is not withdrawal from life.
It is the place from which I want to live it.
The Practice
For now the practice is simple:
Notice when another person’s state changes mine.
Do not automatically match it.
Move only as far as the interaction genuinely requires.
Keep one physical anchor soft: hands, eyes, shoulders, breathing or posture.
When the interaction ends, return to my own baseline.
The world does not have to become calm before I can be calm.
That is my work.
Not escaping other people’s energy.
Not fighting it.
Not mirroring it.
Just learning to remain myself while life walks through the door.