Lava, Old Emotional Buttons, and Lessons from the Scorched and Torched

Apparently, I’ve got an internal volcano that still gets activated when it comes to family-related drama and chaos, or at least that’s what it feels like. Maybe you know the feeling, when your insides start to shake, you see red, and the heat starts to sizzle upward from your chest into your face. Then out of your mouth comes words and a tone that you wish you could suck back into your face.

Let me introduce you to Mount Pam.

Here’s the thing, she doesn’t erupt often. She stays dormant most of the time, so when she does erupt, it surprises everyone, including me.

This eruption came out fast. Sharp words. Sharper tone. No pause. No breath. No chance of catching myself. It was one of those moments where you watch yourself in real time and think, “Oh no, please stop,” but your mouth is already halfway through the barbed sentence. It wasn’t my finest moment, getting swept up in that wave of intense heat.

Nothing like scorching and torching everything within earshot when you’re hurt and angry.

When everything finally cooled down and the hackles on the back of my neck softened, the reason for the eruption became obvious. An old button had been pushed. One I thought I disconnected years ago.

Apparently not.

In the past, when a button triggered a Mount Pam eruption, I would’ve shamed the hell out of myself. I would’ve taken out the emotional 2x4 and swung it wildly at my own head for being so angry.

Not this time.

Learning from Scorching and Torching

Since I’m now a big fan of learning from my missteps, here’s what I did instead.

First, I apologized to someone who deserved an apology…because my scorching and torching impacted them. Then I took a moment to create some much needed awareness. One of my favorite mantras is…”from awareness always comes choice.”

I can’t control someone else’s mean behavior or barbed words. The things that pushed the old button. What I can control is taking a pause, a beat, a breath, so I can give myself the time and space to put a cap on Mount Pam in case she starts to rumble again.

When I get swept up in someone else’s garbage, I’m not just adding to it with my own sharp words and tone. I’m getting pulled deeper into it. That strengthens the power going to that button. And then, like dominoes falling, the risk of Mount Pam erupting again gets higher.

I realized I still had some healing to do. And while my anger and hurt were valid, this was my chance to work on uninstalling that button once and for all.

Because the reality… this button pushing situation has a high probability of happening again. Next time, I want to be more prepared, so the lava doesn’t spew out and torch everything in its path.

I’d Be Remiss If I Didn’t Invite the Brain into This

To geek out for a moment, here’s what was happening internally, in case you’ve got a volcano inside too.

Old emotional buttons live in the body. They’re wired early, and they don’t disappear just because we’ve grown or learned new skills. When one of those buttons gets hit, the body reacts before the thinking part of the brain has time to weigh in.

It’s fast. It’s automatic. It’s protective.

The nervous system basically says, “I’ve seen this before, and I’m not taking chances.” So, the body jumps into action. The chest tightens. The breathing gets shallow and quick. The muscles brace. This is your system preparing for a stress response… the same one that helps you deal with threat, conflict, or overwhelm. By the time the thinking brain catches up, you’re already halfway through the eruption.

It’s not a personal flop or failure. It’s a protective pattern. A very old one.

The Experiment to Cool the Temperature Down and Disconnect the Button

I’ll for sure be doing this little experiment the next time I feel Mount Pam rumble. I invite you to give it a whirl too when you start to feel your insides quake.

When there’s upset that could cause an eruption, try to pause long enough to notice one thing happening in your body. Just one. Maybe your chest tightens. Maybe your stomach drops. Maybe your hands or face get warm. Maybe you feel that internal shake. Just notice it.

Then put a hand somewhere that feels comforting. Over your heart. Your solar plexus. Or give yourself a tiny hug.

Next, say something calming to yourself. Something you’d say to a friend who’s hurting. “This is a lot.” “I’m right here.” “You’re allowed to feel this.”

The key with this experiment is the pause. That little bit of space that helps regulate your nervous system so you can choose to respond instead of react. And every time you do that, you lessen the power going to that button until it eventually disconnects.

Some Final Thoughts

It’s interesting how our bodies often remember things our minds think we’ve already handled. And when old buttons get pushed again, that reaction can serve as useful information. It’s a sign that something inside needs a little more attention and compassion.

In addition to that insight, I’m also taking away this…

Having a volcano inside doesn’t define me or make me an awful person. It makes me a person who cares and feels deeply. I just have to remember that when I feel the lava start to rise, I need to pause before it spills out.

Here’s to fewer scorchings and torchings, even if eruptions are rare. Because at the end of the day, words hurt, and I don’t want to hurt others just because I’m hurting. I’d rather come from a place of grounded compassion so I’m not getting swept up in someone else’s lava.