A reflection from the archives on navigating workplace drama and parenting intensity with a cool mind, warm presence, and unshakeable inner sovereignty

Performances completed for the day, I put down the playbook, take a deep breath of wood-smoke scented air, and plop onto my couch. Alone with the children finally sleeping, I resist the urge to reach for comfort and instead decide to reside for a time with my naked mind.

There, inside the quiet vastness, are many strands, threads, and ribbons—but there is also great space around each of them.

I am no longer in need of unpicking the tapestry to examine the fibers of each thread. I am no longer aching to count how many braids have twisted me into knots along the way. My mind feels less tangled, less interwoven with the past, less constricted by externally designed patterns. It feels empty, vast, and spacious. Light, airy, and replete with blessings.

Don’t get me wrong: I wended my way through some harrowing moments today on the great stage where I try to shed luminance by piloting a hefty spotlight. But all throughout, I maintained the cool, warm space of a mind that is not wounded—a richly quiet mind that is not triggered or caught up in storylines.

Today I kept my cool while emanating warmth for those struggling around me. I think it’s called equanimity.

The Architecture of the Cool Mind

Equanimity is adamantine—crystalline and gleaming, bouncing from the sparkle of newly fallen snowflakes. It is the ability to ride through circumstance with presence: not entirely unscathed, but also not entirely swept up in the waves.

Horse-like in demeanor, dragon-like in emanation, equanimity ripples with the roar of genuineness. It is quiet, like the sound of snow falling upon pine boughs. Just a whisper of something entirely different from traumatic reactivity.

The result? A wonderfully wafting relaxation. The heart, undone from fear and hope. The mind, unwound from anticipation and depression.

Equanimity at Home: Disarming with Adoration

“Mama, I had a bad thought,” says my small child repeatedly through the evening. “I thought: you are stupid, you are fat, you are ugly, you are dumb.”

Where before this castigation would have hampered my internal peace—leaving me devastated because these are painful words, and because my tiny child feels them repeating in her own brain—I now put laughter into my eyes. I smile widely at my daughter.

“Oh! That’s okay,” I tell her. “Let it go. I love you madly!”

I disarm her with my adoration. This, too, is a kind of equanimity. My radiating inner confidence will not be shaken by your bad thoughts, tiny child. No, I shall love you back to yourself. And I shall never give up on you.

Equanimity at Work: The Art of Forbearance

It strikes me how similar my responses have become in the theatre of work, where I perform strange surgeries with words and ideas to wield impactful benefit, all while being stridently ignored or lambasted.

Where before I would crumple, I now respond cheerfully, “Sounds good!” when new direction comes in, even if I disagree. Where before I would shatter with the repetition of unwarranted critique, I now calmly hold my ground. I repeat the information clearly, without defensiveness, explaining simply that we are in fact complying with their wishes.

Today’s lashings were ludicrous. I was blamed for not doing the exact thing I had just spent an entire hour explaining that we are doing. But today’s harangue was a fabulous mirror. I could see clearly that it is not a “me” problem; it is a “them” problem, based on two fundamentally sad truths: they don’t understand what we do, and they do not listen even when we patiently explain.

Letting go of trying to fight this is a kind of equanimity in itself. I merely hold up the spotlight so the actors can see their next lines, and I remain unaffected.

I preserve my sanctity, my sanity, and my serenity when I sweep the center of myself out of the theatrical display.

The Razor’s Edge

I taste my mind, and it tastes like freshly fallen snow.

I shall harness the gleanings from this field of operations. I shall pluck the essence of mind from the vast space of blue sky above and insinuate this radiating luminosity into even the smallest moments of theatrical play. Even if only I know the true game being played, I shall take great delight in this new harnessing of challenge as the razor’s edge of wakefulness.

I gaze into the oncoming snow driving towards me, and I no longer flinch. No, I shall, in fact, open my mouth wide to taste the pure essence of the fresh snow of equanimity.

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