When we hit life’s bumps in the road or those shatter point moments in life, it is vital to pause and breathe. Our reaction says a lot about our ability to deal with stress, and that’s a crucial test in recovery. There are resentments and spot-check moments, and then there are the blunt force trauma moments that can shake your inmost being if you don’t have tools.

In the past, the closest I used to come to pausing and breathing was going outside for a cigarette or ten. I quit years ago, but I wonder if what I miss most about those moments was the standing still, remaining silent, and just regulating breathing. It sounds serene when you leave out the smoking part.

Whether it’s a test result, an accident, or any one of thousands of things that sends your flight senses through the roof, how can we prevent a derailment?

People in the military operating in high adrenaline speak of the short, sharp breaths to focus the senses and give time for training to kick in, to hack the response of emotion or survival.

Such a moment hit me today, and for a minute or two, I was stunned. I felt all four biological responses to danger.

Flight – This response is the panic reaction to run away; horses are flight animals and are easily spooked.

Fight – This is confronting a situation head-on and is the favored response of mine, but in a heightened adrenal state, one can make errors in judgment and react in an emotionally charged way. Fight can be good but not in a defensive, minimizing, or attacking way.

Freeze – This is how I felt initially and is essentially the rabbit in the headlights, not a response useful in many situations unless you’re in Jurassic Park trying not to be seen by a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

Fawn – This is being overly compliant and trying to appease an aggressor. In actual danger, it’s likely to lead to an even worse outcome.

The fact is these are mostly realised in existential threats, but I mention them as they are also trauma responses, my feeling all four in one moment made me realize that the program has equipped me with experience, strength, and hope to have the option to choose how I respond, I respond by working my program.

A dear fellow shared recently how sheep will panic and flee in snow storms and ultimately get stuck in ditches where the sturdy cow hunkers down collectively and embraces the conditions and comes through in one piece.

I have found that taking some time to process, to breathe, gives me time to take the next right step, and that’s all there is to recovery.

I called my sponsor, checked in with my therapist, which will likely form the basis of our next catch-up.

One of my favorite bands is Enter Shikari, and their song “Sssnakepit” says, “when the weight of all the world is pushing down, just push right back.” That’s the invitation; if fear, anxiety, or compulsivity ramp up, then with our program, we get to fight back. If those dials are up to loud, just crank your program up to full. Be louder.

My secret is to take time out and literally breathe. As a Wim Hof practitioner, I am very grateful for breathwork at difficult times. It’s my version of two sharp breaths to give myself time to be calm and not react instinctively but rather trust God to do His job and deliver me in my circumstances and not from them.

He may not spare me the fire, or the lion’s den, or the belly of the whale, but He will be present with and spare me in it.