Releasing Anger, Sadness or Fears With Children

Sometimes I find myself telling my children to “calm down” when they’re upset or crying. When I do, I remind myself that they might not want to be calm. They might be feeling so totally overwhelmed by their worries, anger, fear, sadness, that calming down is the last thing they want to do.
Sometimes, it’s easier to let them release everything by having a really good cry. Crying releases a stress hormone called cortisol, which is contained in tears, so this can be a great stress-reliever.

Mindful activities which aim to release emotions are a healthy way of allowing a child to express themselves, especially if they can’t articulate these feelings to others.

This evening I took my restless children for a walk along the beach. We all collected sand to form into a ball, whilst focusing our emotions into the shape forming in our hands.

Then we stood at the edge of the water, and told all of our worries, sadness and any anger to the ball of sand. As we threw the sand as hard and as far as we could into the sea, we shouted into the cool sea air, releasing and letting go of everything we had been holding inside. Then we asked the sea to dissolve the sand balls and anger, washing away the feelings we didn’t want to hold on to, anymore. We all felt better for doing so…I recommend this activity for the whole family, not just children, as I felt the benefits, too! Don’t worry if you’re not by the sea – you could do something similar with a pebble into a river or a lake, or even throw a pair of socks against the bedroom door! Safely channelling anger and difficult emotions can be far healthier than holding it all in, when trying to be “calm” is the opposite of how a child may want to feel.

Presence

There have been frequent occasions where, whilst on a run, I have been greeted by this wonderful sight. The sun, reflecting on the ocean as a silvery-white glow, its gentle yet persistent beams striking through the clouds. Today's view, however, got to me so much I was almost breathless with awe (and it was not the result of running away from the inquisitive cattle in the adjacent field).
There was just something about the scene that was so powerful I could feel it in my chest, a rush of love and happiness to be able to witness the beauty that was there, in front of me. Free for anyone who could see it, to soak up the gift the eye gives to the soul. Who could look at this and not feel a stirring in their heart? The simple pleasure of being able to tune in to the surroundings and experience that moment of happiness.
I stood still, and drank up everything around me: the crisp, cool breeze that danced around the field; the chattering birdsong, mingled with the occasional "moo" from behind the hedgerow, and the loud sighs of waves meeting land; the delicate salty smell lingering in the air and the taste on my lips; the contrast of the dark blue sea, the heavy clouds, against the green of the fields and the striking sunlight on the water. I stood still, and took everything in. A few moments of stillness, where I closed my eyes, and listened to myself. I could only hear the quiet of my breath, and the joy of the moment, a tangible sense of peace for myself, the words "thank you" whispering in my mind, and gratitude for everything around me. What more could I ask for, at such a moment, other than the gift of presence?