Lessons From Toddlers On Handling Our Own Anxiety

I don't have children of my own but luckily I have lots of friends who seem to not mind me wanting to take care of theirs for a morning/day/weekend/"as-long-as-you-want-Siobhán-here's-the-bag-ok-have-fun-bye!"

Children are fascinating, wise, loving, curious, authentic little beings. I can't believe our world is in such a state at the hands of people who used to be one of these tiny, squishy lovely humans.

Anyway.

All of us, whether parents or not, know the power of a tantrum from one of these little people and today I want to draw your attention to how a toddler having a meltdown** in the street is so astonishingly similar to our own anxiety attacks/thought storms/worry whirlwinds that seeing this will help us understand both better - toddlers and ourselves - and respond in a more helpful and loving way. To both. Which means yourself, too.

{**Meltdown - I love this word, weirdly used rather pejoratively - which I think I just did, above? - to describe something quite beautiful. Melting down - like wax, steel, chocolate, or people's mental state - is about shedding rigidity and becoming fluid, transforming from a solid state to something more adaptable. It’s a process of change and flexibility that’s rather lovely. I think we need more meltdowns.}

A tantrum often starts with something small—a minor frustration or unmet desire—and quickly escalates into a full-blown episode. Our overthinking and anxious thought storms often begin with a single thought, which spirals out of control and quickly snowballs into a riot of anxiety and panic and despair.

In both cases, the initial trigger might be insignificant, but the reaction is disproportionate and consuming. Although a mind wouldn't agree its reaction is 'disproportionate' when it's only trying to save you from imminent death or banishment by conjuring up all the scenarios for all the things.

Having a thought storm — like a toddler having a tantrum —is completely and utterly normal, absurdly common and an essential part of being a human. They both escalate rapidly and are both more likely to calm without your intervention. And, in both cases, YOU hate the whole thing and want it over (but a toddler won't care as much, as we'll see below).

Your thought storm, like a tantruming child, demands attention. It kicks and screams, metaphorically thrashing about in your mind, creating a whirlwind of chaos. Well, mine do.
Just as a toddler wailing can drown out all other sounds, an overthinking mind can drown out all rational thoughts. The intensity feels overwhelming, and the urge to intervene, to quiet the noise, is strong.

What your frenzied thought storm and a toddler tantrum have in common

• Triggered by a small thing, such as one little thought or tiny frustration
• Rapid escalation
• Temporary duration
• High intensity
• Low to no rationality
• Intervention is often highly ineffective
• Exhibiting overwhelm
• Observer role: Ensure safety and be present, non-reactive|
• Impact on environment: disturbance (inner/outer)
• Adult is often resistant in both scenarios and does not want onlookers being nosey or offering 'advice'
• Calm returns each time but seems like it never will
• Subject to repeat episodes

Uncanny, huh?

Now, despite being tiny and unable to tie shoes, toddlers can teach us grown-ups many things about managing intense experiences.

{Perhaps it's because they are closer to their innate wisdom and inner rhythms, before society’s neoliberal juggernaut steamrolls over their authenticity and zest, crushing creativity and intuition with its unrelenting focus on productivity, consumerism, and profit at the expense of our clean and healthy water, air, soil, social trust and democracy?}

What we can learn from toddlers

Toddlers let their emotions out openly and honestly, which can be effective in both being understood, and letting the intensity pass through. We can all benefit from allowing ourselves to feel our emotions without judgement.

Once a toddler’s tantrum is over, they move on without dwelling on it. Toddlers don’t judge themselves for their meltdowns, yet we adults pile on the self-criticism while wallowing in the memory of it all like unhappy hippos at a watering hole of shame.

{No idea where that hippo bit came from. I'll keep it in}

Toddlers need support but don’t expect their caretakers to fix everything. Similarly, adults can lean on their support systems for comfort without expecting solutions to their emotional turmoil.

Toddlers are fully immersed in their current emotions and don’t get caught up in the past or future. Huh. Wonder what that's like?

Toddlers find solace in simple things like a favourite toy or a cuddle. Perhaps us fusty old grown ups can rediscover simple comforts that soothe us ( I like the 3b's: book, blanket and biscuit/s)

Toddlers let the tantrum happen, allowing the storm to rage. Can you be there, observing the tantrum and definitely not enjoying it but grimly knowing that the less you interfere, the better?

Being the responsible adult

As you would with a toddler having a tantrum in the street, can you be a responsible caregiver to yourself, ensuring the 'tantruming child' of your mind doesn't accidentally throw itself in front of a car amidst all the thrashing? As in, can you keep your mind 'safe' during its overactivity and frenzy by not making any rash decisions or taking impulsive actions driven by your frantic thoughts?

A very quick note on having real problems

If you DO need to do something, if there IS a 'real' problem, I assure you that it will look very different from a calmer mind and solutions and responses will look more straightforward. I cover this in a podcast episode But What About When An Actual Bad Thing Happens? if you want to explore further.