Cooler heads are prevailing now, but for a while there, the airwaves were singed with blame. We don't like seeing pictures of little children terrorized by men with guns, so we reflexively blame the person who made it happen. We are frightened of wild fires, so we point our uninformed finger at the nearest target. In our personal lives, we do the same thing. Something bad happens to me, if I'm not on top of my reactions, I lash out in blame.

All this is very different from calmly and objectively looking at events to hold responsible parties accountable or see how tragedies can be prevented in the future, and the difference is simple. Blame arises from a sense of being threatened, and bypasses the higher thought processes completely. It's the same kind of process that causes us to jerk our hand back from the hot stove even before our rational brain realizes that we've touched it. The message, "Danger, Pain, Threat," only reaches the reflexive, lower brain, the brain we share with the animals. I think of it as the snake brain. It can strike out like lightning, hissing and hurting, and has no notion of its own best, long term interests.

Snakes have no choice but to blame, strike out and hiss when things are not going their way, but we Humans do have choices. We can teach ourselves to restrain our snake brain, and give the messages of danger, pain, and threat a chance to reach our thinking and feeling brains, where we can look at the larger situation and the longer term. This is what we are doing when we force ourselves to "count to 10 when angry and to 100 when very angry." (Thomas Jefferson's advice) We notice but leash the lower brain while giving the more complex higher brain a time to kick in with what it, does best. This kind of restraint is a crucial trait of leaders, among children and adults, in homes and in communities, because when leaders pause to master their anger and fear before reacting, followers are more likely to do the same. We can use more of it in the public and private sphere. Next time you hear yourself blaming, stop until your higher brain kicks in and the totality of the situation becomes clear. You'll be glad you did.

For those of us whose rhythm of life revolves around the school year, June is a month of triumphs and endings. Final projects, term papers, final exams, teacher conferences, and class plays all wind up a year's work and a year's work space and a year's relationships. Goodbye's are the order of the day, and the small sadness of leaving known surroundings and cherished people for whatever new adventures beckon. Even though I was one of those kids who counted days 'till Summer vacation, I remember being baffled by tears on the last day of school. I look back on this as an early lesson in one of life's challenges: every gain entails a loss! I wish that some adult had explained this to me, and I call on all you school teachers and program leaders to help the children in your care understand their mixed emotions about beginnings and endings!

The goal of parenthood is to nurture our kids to adulthood, and what do we feel amidst our pride in their graduations, achievements, and growing ups? What we feel is mixed with sadness for the childhoods they are leaving and for our changing role as their parent. I was assailed by a dose of mixed emotions at that quintessential moment when Kevin figured out how to ride a bike. After several unsuccessful attempts at this over the years and a week of intense frustration this Spring, suddenly one evening, he was riding faster than I could run beside him, and I had to let go of the back of his seat and stand and watch as he wheeled down the road, into the sunset and the rest of his life. This was a great and long-awaited triumph for him and for us, and what I did was stand there trying to control my tears.

Mixed Emotions are a constant in life, because life is change and every change entails loss and gain. Take a new job, you leave an old one. No matter that you've wanted that promotion so much you could taste it, there's a loss; of people, a known role, a routine. On the other hand, most of our losses, even painful ones, do come with gains; illness can bring insight and relationship endings are also beginnings. Our ability to find the opportunities and small blessings even in times of crisis and loss is one thing that redeems these difficult times and helps us move out of them. And, our willingness to acknowledge what we are loosing even in "good" changes helps us stay centered and aware of ourselves. So here's to June, the month of beginnings and endings, triumphs and sadness, and of the poignant beauty of mixed emotions.

Christine Robinson
Albuquerque New Mexico