Reset
<p class=""><em>I actually began writing this post months ago, not long after </em><a href="http://www.erinketheridge.com/blog/2019/5/21/the-first-45-minutes-flow" target=""><em>I had written about flow</em></a><em>. But then I was going with the flow so
The last thing I want to do is make anyone feel less-than. So just to clarify, my post on the concept of flow is the ideal. I will say that most of the time, or at least much of the time, I am able to stay in a state of flow. That’s after nearly ten years of daily practice. But if it’s hot as the devil’s butt crack, if I’m in desperate need of a snack, or I’m in particularly aggravating pain (which fortunately isn’t often, but having lupus means pain is a possibility), then I get snippy and snappy and sassy and snarky. So be kind to yourselves, friends. A bad moment or a bad day or a bad choice isn’t everything. It’s something, but it isn’t everything.
So what do I do if I find myself in a bad moment or day or choice? I reset.
Note: I actually began writing this post months ago, not long after I had written about flow. But then I was going with the flow so hard, I just never did finish and post it. Seems pretty appropriate right now, though, since so very many of us are finding ourselves in unprecedented home-life situations for the foreseeable future.
The “Reset” Concept
In tech terms, a soft reset is basically taking a buggy application back to square one so it runs smoothly again. A hard reset is taking the whole system back to square one. A factory reset is the nuclear option: wiping all data and starting over.
Soft Reset
I find that a soft reset is useful when dealing with an individual person or a specific situation. Say, I’m talking to a kid and they’re getting frustrated because I don’t understand them, whether because they barely speak English (Harry); they leave out necessary or focus on tangential details (Oliver); or they are so deeply enveloped in their own complex web of thoughts that my brain hurts trying to follow along (Ethan).
Voices begin to get raised or wavery, annoyed sighs and whine sounds are abundant, arms get flailed. Aha! I say to myself. We need a reset.
“Wait, wait! Pause!” I’ll say with authority. (Note: authority is different from volume.) I find that the word “pause” tends to sound less authoritarian than “stop,” and it also suggests that this isn’t over. Nobody is getting dismissed. Then we head back to the beginning of whatever conversation has gone off the rails, and I ask specific, pointed questions until we figure things out.
Regarding situational applications, a soft reset can happen when someone has just finished a snack, for example, and has left the crumbs and trash and utensils behind. “Pause!” I’ll call out. And then I’ll quickly point out the Offending Issue and they know to take care of it.
Soft resets are targeted, they typically take only a moment or two, and they are useful in diffusing an issue before it becomes a Hard Reset Situation.
Hard Reset
Hard resets are useful for dealing with a group dynamic that’s spiraling. Calling a Family Conference is a hard reset. During the Family Conference we can air our grievances, parents can give decisive instructions/explanations. It’s basically a mini Festivus.
With three kids, that’s three different perspectives, three different energy levels, three different attitudes; sometimes they harmonize or align, other times they’re cacophonous or clashing.
I usually do at least two situational hard resets a day: right around lunchtime (especially now that we’re all home together) when we spend a few minutes tidying up our stuff and making sure the house is in order, and the same thing again right around dinner time. For me, untidiness is chaotic and distracting and stressful. So these hard resets of our physical space really help. And because our house is small (around 1,100 square feet), it really does only take a few minutes.
The Nuclear Option: Factory Reset
I haven’t had to go Chernobyl around here very often lately (too soon?) probably because since my brother became a stay-at-home dad last fall, it’s just me and Harry for most of the day on weekdays. It’s very manageable around here.
And then This Whole Thing Happened, and there are five of us here all day, every day. I still haven’t had to pull a factory reset, thankfully, but what that looks like is everybody goes to a separate space (like our rooms), and there is to be no talking or screens. We are encouraged to reevaluate our lives and choices. We are to sit down and shut up. We are not to engage with one another for at least five minutes, preferably ten or fifteen.
Factory resets aren’t punishments, though. They’re a way of starting over, acknowledging that whatever is going on has gone off the rails and should be scrapped. If multiple people are involved, that’s when the physical and social separation happens so we can gather ourselves. If it’s something inanimate involved, such as a craft project or recipe making or a video-game sesh that isn’t going well, we stop doing whatever it is and walk away. Or destroy it if appropriate. (Chuck it in the bin! if it’s an inedible recipe fail. Scribble all over it and tear it up and toss the scraps into the air; throw the offending item; yell if necessary.)
Factory resets allow for a brief explosion of frustration—I encourage it, in fact! But then it ends, and we let the dust settle, and we start over or start fresh.
Kind of feels like the whole world is in a factory reset right now.