The split second where you still get to choose

I’m sitting at the kitchen table finishing next week’s blog post.

The front door flies open. Daughter bursts in with groceries. And the dogs lose their minds.
The energy spikes like someone cranked the volume knob to eleven.

Where does this go? Where does that go? She lives here. She should know.

She comes over to show me something. Puppy tries to climb onto the table.
Husband walks in a minute later—not asking what I’m doing, just telling me he needs me to look something up.

And there it is. That flash.

The urge to snap. To bark back.To yell can’t you see I’m working??

Instead—I catch it.

Take a breath. Finish the sentence that almost got away. Then stand up.

He’s looking at lights for the new studio. Adjustable color range. I tell him I’ll check it out in a minute.

And I go back to the table.

Calmly.

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There was a time— maybe last week—when I would’ve blown up at all of it.

But something shifted. Not dramatically. No choir of angels. Just a pause.

Long enough to notice what’s actually happening here.

We’re all in this together.

In this tiny ADU with one bathroom. No real workspace. My “office” spread across the kitchen table in a losing battle with everyone else’s stuff.

His stuff. Her stuff. Life’s stuff.

Until I realized the part that almost slipped by—

They’re not interrupting me.

They’re building this with me.

Groceries carried in. Studio lights researched. A puppy who thinks everything is a group activity.

This messy, noisy, overlapping life is the bridge to the quiet studio I keep dreaming about. To the house we’re building later this year.

And just like that, the room doesn’t feel so small.

The split second before I lost it—and what I noticed instead. A small shift that changes how you handle interruptions and everyday chaos.

Noticing isn’t always about color or light or some perfect little moment.

.Sometimes it’s this.

The split second before you react. The choice you almost miss.
The realization that what feels like chaos is actually support. Loud. But support.

This week’s Creative Prompt

Next time you’re about to snap—pause.

Just long enough to realize you’re about to snap.

You can still snap if you want. I’m not gonna judge you.

But notice the moment where you could choose something else.

That moment? That’s where the good stuff hides.

Check out the video below.

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Back next week–

That space—the one right before the reaction—this video nails it.

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