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Before Corona, I had myself framed essentially as a lover of humanity, a woman who stretches herself to understand, rather than judge, the annoying, if not outrageous, behavior of other people.

Then one day last week, I saw an online advertisement for a tank top that said “I Like Coffee and 3 People.” All of a sudden it came crashing in on me that there are actually people I don’t like.

Call it a Corona Transformation. That is honestly what it feels like. Liberated at last. Is what it is. Only human, after all. Even for me, it is okay not to like.

After this epiphany, I wrote a different post from the one you are reading now. The unsent post, entitled “Us vs Ourselves,” was all about the people who are dissing the rules on social distancing, no matter how much they may be putting themselves and others at risk.

The tirade included, but was not limited to, the unmasked people who were routinely coming up close and personal, right in my face—while I was simply trying to stay alive, and my dog was simply trying to poop.

Then there were the people I knew were getting together in ill-advised ways; never mind the first responders, and everyone else they, too, were putting at risk.

I referred to the behavior of these people I do not like as selfish, ignorant, and needy. Which means—OMG—I called them names. And then went on a 500-word rant on what could possibly explain such blatant inconsideration. Shame on me. I am better than this. Ok fine, it’s true, still trying hard to understand. Nonetheless, it was a rant.

And trust me when I tell you that, even though there is still some rant going on here and now; the original one, the cathartic one, was much, much worse.

But I Did Not Hit Send.

In the back of my mind was something I had heard about Abraham Lincoln. Abraham Lincoln had piles of “hot letters,” letters telling other people off that he never sent. I’m guessing Lincoln just knew and could feel what the science tells us now: There is something very good for us about writing things down, even if, and sometimes especially if, we do not hit send.

Your Brain On Ink is a book that explains how writing can, among other things, activate the calming parasympathetic nervous system. This calming helps to reengage the smarter, more rational, higher brain that gets knocked offline when the mid-brain gets enraged.

This is the same effect we get from what I call “Power Breathing,” a 3-breath way to do the same thing. If you haven’t already, get your easy instructions on the pull-down in the “Complimentary” box at https://madelaineweiss.com/

As more than an aside, however, the Lincoln method can be helpful—not only for angry personal or work emails or texts—but for other kinds of unhelpful missives as well. There are love letters better left unsent, and apologies too. Sometimes we write and send to bridge a gap that, no matter how uncomfortable, is better left as is.

Some might say, but shouldn’t we be calling people on their behavior if it is hurting others. Yes and No. Yes, when we have reason to believe chances are good we could have a positive impact. No, when there are so many and, if they are not listening to the medical experts, chances are they will do what they do, until something like, god forbid, their getting sick themselves turns them around.

In this case, to preserve and protect our good natures, for our own good, and the good of the people counting on us; we write but do not send. Or we can breathe, or both—to get a hold of ourselves and bring the higher brain online. Practice, practice, practice…see what happens and let me know in comments below.