When the Startle Reflex Softens

It’s become clearer to me that moment by moment, we experience *ourselves*, much more than we experience our *circumstances*.

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What I've noticed recently is that my startle reflex is much less than it used to be. Previously, misplacing my phone, even at home would induce a bit of "panic," even though I’ve misplaced it dozens of times, and have always found it.
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While hiking in the woods this summer, I noticed that my phone — a top-of-the-line iPhone that had my wallet and house keys attached to it — was missing.
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As I noticed that it was missing, I also noticed that there was almost no reaction — about the same as if I'd noticed that I left my unfinished coffee at the café.  Since I was carrying our daughter on my back, I asked my wife if she could go look for it — in the woods. As she looked, I assumed it was lost forever, yet I didn’t ponder the worst-case-scenario — all the time and money I'd have to spend replacing my license, credit cards, and the phone, not to mention the risk of having our house keys in the woods next to my license with our address on it.  Certainly, I had a *preference* that she would find my phone, but I was completely okay if she didn't.  That is, *I cared, but I didn't mind*.  Being the miracle worker that she is, she found it quickly. I thanked her, yet there was no big sigh of relief.  No worry, no relief — just a grounded sense that everything is okay, regardless of what happens.

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Similarly, a few weeks ago, I emailed a client to let them know that, due to overages outlined in our contract, they owed me quite a bit of extra money. My contact called me and told me that they weren't going to pay any portion of the overage. Again, there was almost no reaction, and from that place, I was able to think of creative ways to remedy the situation.  It turns out he was just pulling my leg — they were actually willing to pay.

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