I Teach Calm… and I Lost My Cool

Cultivating Calm Is Emotional Intelligence in Action

The theme for my classses this month has been Cultivating Calm.  It sounds simple but asks a lot of us. Not pretend calm. Not a spiritual performance. Not the kind where we paste on a smile while something inside is tight or burning. Real calm. Practiced calm. The kind that develops when we take responsibility for the energy we bring into shared space.

When it comes to emotional intelligence, here is what I know for sure: we do not "control" our emotions. They arise automatically. If someone disagrees with us, criticizes us, slows us down, or crosses a line, the nervous system is bound to react. This is human. What we can influence is what happens after the reaction appears. We can learn to work with our mood. We can learn to pause before passing the charge along. That is where cultivating calm becomes a form of leadership.

Over the years I've noticed that I can't always stop the surge of feeling, but I can often catch myself before I spill it onto someone else. I can stay present in my body. I can hold the emotional field long enough to make a wiser choice. Not perfectly, but more reliably the longer I practice. And that matters.

Here's a recent example of when that wasn't the case. My husband and I were setting up for an event. I had one idea about how it should go, and he had another. We are both strong, committed people, so naturally we began debating which way was better. As the conversation continued, I could feel frustration rising inside me. I was tired. I wanted to be done. And if I’m being completely honest, I wanted it handled my way without having to keep talking about it. I lost my cool. My voice rose and I snapped at him. The pressure I felt internally moved outward. Sigh... the stress won.

Later, when everything settled, I could see the situation more clearly. When I am tired, my capacity to work skillfully with strong emotion is smaller. When I am depleted, I want relief more than connection. When urgency takes over, I forget what I know. A friend reminded me of an acronym used in some circles. H.A.L.T. She asked me: Were you "hungry, angry, lonely or tired"? The answer was yes.

That realization was humbling. But it was also incredibly useful. Once again I'm reminded about how important ongoing self care is. If I want to be the kind of partner, teacher, and leader I aspire to be, I must care for my nervous system daily.

Cultivating Calm is not about never becoming activated. It is about recognizing activation sooner, recovering faster, and taking responsibility for our impact. It means breathing before speaking. It means stepping away if we are too charged to be constructive. It means coming back to repair when we miss the mark. And it means recognizing when I am simply tired after a long week and expressing that clearly.

One of the great joys of my life is being around people who practice this too. Communication becomes easier. Honesty feels safer. There is less threat in the air because no one is looking for a place to dump what they cannot hold. When we can remain present with ourselves, we can remain present with each other. That is where real relationship grows.

This is exactly what we are practicing in yoga, even when it seems like we are simply working with the body. A pose becomes intense, the mind wants to escape, impatience rises...and we practice noticing. We feel the support underneath us. We soften what is not required. We return to the breath. Over time, the nervous system learns that it does not have to react so quickly. It learns that space is available. These small adjustments, repeated often, are how calm becomes accessible day to day.

For me, emotional intelligence is not about appearing peaceful at all times. It is about being accountable for what I contribute to the shared human environment. It is about understanding that my state influences others whether I intend it to or not. Responsibility, in this way, becomes a very practical expression of love.

I aplogized to my husband the next morning. I expressed what was really happening for me when I lost my cool. Another part of Cultivating Calm is owning when you didn't keep it together and learning from it.

I am still learning. I imagine I will always be learning. But I can tell you this: life improves as we practice. Repair happens faster. Trust deepens. We become people others can relax around.

This is why Cultivating Calm matters. It helps us become steady, safe humans in relationship with one another.

💙