A curious thing happens when you must be calm, when you don’t have the luxury of expressing your frustration, when what you want to do and what you must do are irreconcilably at odds, and little can be done to alleviate the frustration of a body and mind that want but cannot have.

I find myself on a Thursday evening in the dark, bored, shushing, shushing, shushing . . . trying to help a squeamish baby go to sleep. She hasn’t slept well, because she hasn’t fed well, because . . . I’m not sure. We’ll get that checked out soon.

As for now, there is nowhere else I can be, because she needs meAs for now, there is nowhere else I can be, because she needs me. She needs me to help her, help her go to sleep, help her feel safe.

After a long while, she finally, quietly turns her head to rest on my shoulders, and then—yes! Her breathing slows and . . . could it be? It is! She’s asleep! Slowly lowering her down to the crib, holding my breath, I sneak out of the room, closing the door, breathing a sigh of relief, and then hopping on the couch with a book to reward myself.

Wait—what is that? A shriek coming from her room . . . What could it be? And there she is, eyes wide and largely open in fright, the drilling of the construction workers sounding as they hammer down, disturbing her sleep . . .

Oh no, oh no . . . She’s hysterical, and she’s overtired . . . and, here we go, here we go again . . . It’s taking so long . . . Hush, little baby, don’t say a word . . . Hush, hush, hush . . .

As she squirms and cries, I realize that I can’t do anything productive with these negative thoughts filling my head: the anger at the construction workers, the pity on my existence that must endure this . . . With nowhere else to turn, I find myself calmly talking to myself. “It will be over soon . . .” the voice soothes like honey . . . “It’s going to get better . . .” on repeat. The effect of this mental massage begins to relax my body and brain. As I calm myself down within, I feel empowered that I can handle it, I can endure no matter how long it takes, I will do it. And I can even enjoy myself. Before I know it, she’s asleep.

Many times, after I leave my child’s room following a long, difficult, shushing session, I find myself more whole and at peace than when I entered (usually!).

“It will be over soon . . .” the voice soothes me like honey . . . “It’s going to get better . . .”

When I find the peace within myself to help others feel calm, I too feel saferIt’s a curious thing that happens: when I find the peace within myself to help others feel calm, I too feel safer. My mind and body become my sanctuary once again. Where I can battle with that which threatens to bring me down into despair, and conquer. It is there and then that I find my inner strength.

It is in those moments when what we want to do and what we must do are irreconcilably at odds with each other, when the war within emerges with frustration, that we can choose to win the battle through love, talking to ourselves warmly, loving deeply within, and becoming more whole.

A difficult but rewarding task indeed.