Life happens inside-out

The ear-piercing scream jolted me out of my morning yoga practice.

I gritted my teeth… “Here we go again,” I thought, as my toddler raced from his room in a full-on tantrum and barreled into me, demanding breakfast. I looked at the clock. It was 5:15 a.m.

Feeling my blood pressure rise, I gathered him up, took him to his room and told him to go back to bed. (You can guess how that went… )

Moments later, here he came again. All red-faced and fists balled and stomping down the hallway. 

I tried again. Again. And again. 

On about the fifth attempt at this no-win battle, I caught a glimpse of myself in his closet-door mirror. And there I was: red-faced, fists balled, stomping out of his room indignantly. 

The sight jolted me out of my rage and into a moment of clarity. 

For at least six months prior, this had been the normal start to my morning. Waking up at 4:30 am, filled with dread and rushing through my yoga practice before I heard the bedroom door slam open and the angry little feet rush my way. I tried everything. Earlier bedtime, later bedtime, sleep consultant, letting him come into our bed, not letting him come into our bed. But inevitably it ended up like this. With both of us shedding angry tears before the sun came up. 

Looking at myself, I saw the answer. 

This issue wasn’t coming from my toddler. It was coming from me. The anger, frustration and fear that boiled inside me was a mindset, seeping out into my home like a toxin. Finding its way into my anxious fingertips as I tucked him into bed. A tense undertone to my voice as I told him goodnight. Leaving pleading tracks under my feet as I tiptoed away. 

I saw it all – reflected in his mirror and in his tiny body – this world that I created. 

When we’re struggling on the inside, it’s so easy to identify things to blame on the outside. If you’re stressed, blame your job. Lonely? Blame your relationships. Tired? Your kids. Your busy life. Your responsibilities. Not your fault. 

The truth is, life doesn’t happen outside-in. It only happens inside-out. The internal monologue we listen to all day, every day, does something to us. It directs our focus and communicates to others without words. It tells us what we deserve. It tells us what we’re capable of. 

So shouldn’t we start there? Of all things that happen to us, shouldn’t we at least be in charge of what happens on the inside? How might this kind of personal development impact what happens on the outside?  

After my mirror moment, I changed my approach. I started meditating right before bed, and when I woke up, I walked softly through the house. I told myself, “Just for today, I will not get angry.” And when the little feet came running, I took a deep breath, relaxed my face, and opened my arms for a hug. 

His angry face looked confused. 

“Good morning! I’m so glad to see you,” I said. He softened. 

We walked back to his bed. I curled up next to him, and we laid together as the sun’s first light started to peek through the window.

Tomorrow, I thought, will be different.