The space between

This page is for Nick Simson’s IndieWeb Carnival: Take Two.

Twenty years ago, someone at work mentioned a book that I had never heard of before. It sounded awful and fascinating at the same time, and it was a far cry from the usual business books that people were always quoting or making a point of leaving on their desks (because, you know, the only thing better than reading a business book is making sure that everyone around you knows that you’re reading a business book). Naturally, I was curious about it.

No, this was definitely not a business book. On the way home that day, I stopped by Borders and found a copy: Man’s Search for Meaning, by Viktor Frankl. I paid for the book, went home, ate dinner with my wife, and began reading. And I didn’t stop reading until I reached the last page.

It’s a heavy book, not in length or weight, but in its subject matter. And it’s full of a seemingly endless amount of wisdom, the kind of wisdom that can only be derived from the very worst fear and suffering that a person might have to endure. And all of this wisdom was extremely well-written and highly quotable. But one quote stuck out to me above all others; one particular chunk of wisdom that I read and re-read so many times that I quickly memorized it:

Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.

These three sentences changed me. At that time in my life, I was exploring Theravada Buddhism, and this quote felt like something that connected perfectly with those principles despite being from an entirely different time and place.

I spent a lot of time thinking about the quote. Sure, it was far from a new idea: throughout my childhood I had been told to “think before speaking” more times than I could count. But those were aphorisms offered in moments of chastisement, by parents or teachers, and so they were easily ignored. Frankl’s packaging of this wisdom was simply perfect. The succinct but relatable framing of the space between stimulus and response. The idea that something good can be found in that space. Not the bland responsibility to spend a moment considering a response before offering one, but the idea that we’re empowered to explore an entire world of choice there, and that our choice is ultimately an opportunity to become a better person. I found it truly amazing to consider.

In the two decades that followed, I’d like to think that I put this advice to use plenty of times. I’m aware of times when I considered this specific quote and thought more carefully and intentionally before responding (whether that was taking a beat before speaking in a conversation, or waiting a bit longer to reply to an email). I’m sure there were also plenty of times when the advice did its thing subconsciously, guiding me to a better outcome than if I had never read the book in the first place.

But I’m also aware of other times when I know I didn’t follow this advice. When my response immediately followed a stimulus, with no real consideration beforehand, no intentional choice made, and certainly no opportunity for growth. I know about these times precisely because of this quote. The thing about quotes that stick with me is that they really stick, and they stick across all contexts, good or bad. I can think about this quote as a way to guide myself in making better choices, or I can think about it through a lens of regret, where it anchors my awareness of my flawed responses in the realization of just how much better I could have done. One way or the other, though, I’m going to be thinking about it.

I know that regret is generally unproductive, but reflection is important. There’s something useful about being able to look in the rearview mirror to see what we could have done differently. When I think about the do-overs I’ve wished for in life, a consistent theme is the realization that I didn’t really use the space between stimulus and response. That I didn’t spend the time needed to choose the right response. I can’t take back things that I’ve said or done, but I can use those regrets as fuel for a better outcome next time. As reminders to acknowledge the space between, and to use my power to choose.