by I was driving home last night, the sky a blur of tail-lights and neon signs, when another car whipped in front of me without even a signal. My heart raced and got annoyed. I felt that old reflex—press the horn, tighten the jaw, let the anger loose.
However, as I have been introspecting myself, specially in a car when I don’t have anything else to do, I realized: maturity isn’t about never feeling that spike of irritation. It’s noticing it—and choosing not to obey it.
Thoughts and feelings are just chemistry
Every surge of anger, every knot of anxiety, every rush of excitement—all of it comes from chemicals firing inside us. We call those “thoughts” or “feelings,” but at their core they’re impulses from our body. If we act on them without question, we’re driven by biology.
Maturity is the moment we break that chain. It’s when we see the chemical whisper—“Be mad!” or “React!”—and we gently say, “Thanks for the heads-up, I’ve got this”.
That tiny space between instinct and action
On the road last night, as soon as I was annoyed, I took two deliberate breaths. Not to become some zen master—just enough to create a tiny gap between impulse and response. In those breaths, I could choose discretion over drama.
Transcending the body, moment by moment
This isn’t about rewriting who we are. We still feel the surge of fight-or-flight when we’re cut off, criticized, or thrown a curveball. The work of maturity is in that pause:
- Notice the impulse. Recognize “that” sensation of annoyance.
- Breathe. Even two breaths are enough.
- Decide. Do you want to unleash your reflex, or lean into a steadier choice?
Each time we step out of autopilot, we practice transcending the body-driven script. And every practiced pause strengthens our ability to live by discretion rather than compulsion.
Why it matters
When we override those bodily urges—anger, fear, even excitement—we gain clarity. We see what’s happening instead of being swept along. That clarity lets us act with purpose: in our relationships, at work, and in the small moments that shape our days.
I’m still learning, still fumbling through those tiny spaces. Last night’s pause didn’t make me perfect—but it reminded me that maturity isn’t a destination. It’s that whisper of choice we cultivate every time our body tries to drive.
