Imagine you're driving and someone suddenly cuts you off in traffic.
Before you've even had time to think about it, you react.
You swear.
You shout.
You tense up.
You might even speed up, determined not to let them get away with it.
And within seconds, something that happened on the road has completely changed how you're feeling.
Perhaps you were having a perfectly good morning.
You were listening to music.
You were feeling relaxed.
And now you're angry.
All because somebody changed lanes in front of you.
But here's something worth thinking about.
Why did you react that way?
Not why the other driver did what they did.
Why did you respond the way you did?
Because sometimes our reactions are no longer conscious decisions.
They've become practised responses.
When a reaction becomes automatic
Think about how many things you do without having to think about them anymore.
You brush your teeth.
You tie your shoes.
You drive a familiar route.
You've done these things so many times that they require very little conscious attention.
Something similar can happen with our emotional reactions.
Someone criticises you, and you immediately become defensive.
Someone doesn't reply to your message, and you assume they're ignoring you.
Something goes wrong, and your mind jumps straight to the worst possible outcome.
You feel uncomfortable, so you withdraw.
You feel uncertain, so you procrastinate.
You feel disrespected, so you become angry.
And often, these reactions happen before you've had a chance to consider whether there's another way to respond.
You might even find yourself saying:
That's just how I am.
I've always had a short temper.
I can't help overthinking.
I always shut down when things get difficult.
But what if these aren't permanent truths about who you are?
What if they're simply responses you've repeated so often that they've become familiar?
You become what you practise
One of the principles we return to often at The Game Called Change is:
You become what you practise.
And the interesting thing is that we're practising all the time, whether we're aware of it or not.
Every time you respond to criticism by becoming defensive, you're repeating that response.
Every time you interpret silence as rejection, you're reinforcing a familiar way of thinking.
Every time something goes wrong and you immediately expect the worst, you're giving that pattern another opportunity to express itself.
This doesn't mean you're deliberately choosing to feel bad.
And it doesn't mean you should blame yourself for having these reactions.
Many of our responses developed through experiences we didn't choose.
Some may have helped us cope with difficult situations.
Others may have been learned from the people and environments around us.
But there's an important distinction between understanding where a response came from and deciding that it must continue.
A reaction can be understandable without being the response you want to keep practising.
And once you begin to recognise that, something becomes possible.
You can start practising another way.
The moment between what happens and what you do next
Let's go back to the traffic example.
Someone cuts you off.
You feel the irritation rising.
Your shoulders tighten.
Your mind begins telling you what an inconsiderate person they are.
Normally, this is where you might shout or swear.
But imagine that, just for a moment, you notice what's happening.
You recognise the familiar reaction.
And instead of immediately following it, you pause.
You take a breath.
You allow the other car to move ahead.
You continue driving.
The other driver hasn't changed.
What happened hasn't changed.
But something about your response has.
And perhaps, a few minutes later, you're still enjoying your music instead of replaying the incident in your mind.
That's what I mean by practising a different response.
It's not about pretending you weren't irritated.
It's not about convincing yourself that the other driver was right.
It's about recognising that you don't have to give every uncomfortable moment control over what happens inside you next.
Of course, this is easier to describe than it is to do.
Especially when you've been reacting a particular way for years.
But that's precisely why we call it practice.
You don't have to get it right every time
Sometimes we decide we're going to change, and we expect the old reaction to disappear immediately.
We tell ourselves:
I'm not going to lose my temper anymore.
I'm going to stop overthinking.
I'm never going to react like that again.
Then something happens.
We react exactly as we always have.
And suddenly we feel as though we've failed.
But consider this.
The way you respond today wasn't necessarily created yesterday.
Some of these patterns have been repeated for years.
They've become familiar.
And familiar responses don't always disappear simply because we've decided we want something different.
You may notice the old reaction only after it has happened.
That's still awareness.
Next time, perhaps you'll notice it while it's happening.
And another time, you may notice it just before you respond.
That's progress.
Not because you've become perfect.
But because you're beginning to recognise something that previously happened without your awareness.
And every time you recognise it, you have another opportunity to practise.
Sometimes you'll respond differently.
Sometimes you won't.
The important thing is that you keep returning to the person you're choosing to become.
You don't have to practise perfectly. You have to keep practising.
What would you rather practise?
Here's where the idea becomes useful.
It's one thing to recognise a reaction you don't like.
It's another to decide what you want to practise instead.
If you normally become defensive when someone gives you feedback, perhaps you want to practise listening before responding.
If you normally assume rejection when someone goes quiet, perhaps you want to practise asking rather than assuming.
If you normally become overwhelmed when something goes wrong, perhaps you want to practise dealing with one thing at a time.
If you normally withdraw during difficult conversations, perhaps you want to practise staying present long enough to express what you're feeling.
The new response doesn't have to be dramatic.
It might simply be waiting ten minutes before replying to a message.
Taking a breath before speaking.
Asking one question.
Relaxing your shoulders.
Choosing not to continue an argument.
Or recognising that you're upset and giving yourself a little time before deciding what to do.
These may seem like small things.
But small responses, repeated over time, can begin to change the way you experience familiar situations.
And perhaps even the way you see yourself.
A small practice for today
Think of one situation that regularly brings out the same reaction in you.
Something familiar.
It could be criticism.
Traffic.
A disagreement.
Someone not replying.
A change of plans.
Feeling overlooked.
Or being asked to do something when you're already overwhelmed.
Now take a few minutes and answer three questions.
1. What is the trigger?
What normally happens just before you react?
Be specific.
2. What is my practised reaction?
What do you usually think, feel, say or do?
Try to describe it without judging yourself.
3. What response would I rather practise?
If you could approach that same situation differently, what would you like to do?
Perhaps your answers look something like this:
Trigger: Someone disagrees with me.
My practised reaction: I immediately become defensive and try to prove that I'm right.
The response I want to practise: I want to listen properly before responding and consider whether there's something useful in what they're saying.
Now comes the most important part.
Don't promise yourself that you'll never react the old way again.
Simply decide that the next time the situation arises, you'll look for an opportunity to practise the new response.
And if you miss that opportunity?
Notice it.
Learn from it.
And begin again.
Because change doesn't always happen in one dramatic moment.
Sometimes it happens when an ordinary situation gives you another opportunity to become someone different.
The next time somebody cuts you off in traffic, you may still feel irritated.
But perhaps you won't shout.
Perhaps you'll take a breath.
Perhaps you'll simply carry on with your day.
And that one different response is worth noticing.
Because every time you practise something different, you're reminding yourself:
There is another way.
And over time, what you practise can become what feels natural.
