Let me share something personal with you.
In 2011, I lost my dad. I was angry — angry at God, angry at my mom for not calling sooner, angry at my dad for not going to the ER because he didn’t have insurance. At the time, I was working urgent care, and I remember that night so clearly.
My boss, an ER doc with nearly twenty years under his belt, told me that symptoms like my dad’s “kidney stone” pain were often signs of an aortic aneurysm. Less than six hours later, that’s exactly what happened. The aneurysm burst. My dad was gone. A completely preventable death.
I spiraled after that. And honestly, it took a long time to climb out.
The Darkness of Unprocessed Grief
Grief doesn’t follow a predictable path. For me, it manifested as a toxic mixture of guilt, anger, and regret. I should have been more insistent that he seek treatment. I should have done something, anything different.
The “should haves” are relentless ghosts that haunt the bereaved. They visit in quiet moments, during sleepless nights, and sometimes in the middle of ordinary days without warning. They’re especially brutal for those in professions where you’re trained to save others but can’t save those closest to you.
My grief affected everything — my work, my relationships, my health. I started making mistakes at work because I couldn’t focus. I pushed away people who tried to help because they couldn’t possibly understand. I stopped taking care of myself because it didn’t seem to matter anymore.
This is a familiar spiral for many in high-stress professions. One traumatic event becomes the trigger that unleashes accumulated stress that’s been building for years. And without intervention, that spiral can lead to dangerous places.
Finding the Shift
Somewhere in that darkness, I came across Viktor Frankl’s book Man’s Search for Meaning. If you haven’t read it, Frankl was a psychiatrist who survived Nazi concentration camps and went on to develop logotherapy, an approach centered on finding meaning even in suffering.
There was one line in that book that stopped me in my tracks and changed the way I understood everything:
“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.”
Read that again.
This concept hit me with the force of revelation. Here was Frankl, who had endured unimaginable suffering, suggesting that even in the most extreme circumstances, we retain the fundamental human freedom to choose our response to what happens to us.
It wasn’t that my grief wasn’t real or justified. It wasn’t that I needed to “get over it” or “move on.” It was that I had been allowing my initial reactions to dictate my ongoing experience, without recognizing that there was a space — however small — where I could make a different choice.
Same Event. Different Meaning.
Think about the story I just told you. For me, it’s deeply personal — it was my dad. For you, it’s just a story. But if it was your dad, the emotions would shift instantly. Same situation, different meaning.
That’s the point. The situation doesn’t define the experience — we do. The meaning we attach to something determines how we carry it, how it shapes us, and how it lingers.
This isn’t about positive thinking or denying pain. It’s about recognizing that between what happens to us and how we ultimately respond, there exists a space where we can insert consciousness and choice.
For first responders, emergency workers, healthcare providers, and others who routinely face traumatic situations, this concept isn’t just philosophical—it’s survival. Every day, you witness suffering that would break most people. You see humanity at its most vulnerable, most desperate, most broken. And you keep showing up.
How? By finding that space between stimulus and response. By developing the capacity to choose how you carry these experiences.
The STOP Technique: Creating Space Between Stimulus and Response
This is where the STOP technique becomes more than just a mental health tip — it becomes a real, practical tool for first responders and anyone in high-stress roles.
S – STOP what you’re doing.
Just pause. Interrupt the reaction cycle. This first step is the hardest because it requires awareness in the moment when emotions are flooding your system. It might be as simple as physically stopping, putting down what you’re holding, or stepping away briefly if possible.
In high-adrenaline situations, this might be a micro-pause—just a moment of recognition that you’re about to react automatically. Even that split-second of awareness creates the space Frankl described.
T – TAKE a breath.
Anchor yourself in the moment with a deliberate breath. This isn’t just psychological—it’s physiological. A deep breath activates your parasympathetic nervous system, beginning to counter the stress response.
Make it intentional. Feel the air filling your lungs, the slight pause at the top of the breath, and the release as you exhale. This single breath can create the physiological space needed for a chosen response rather than a reactive one.
O – OBSERVE your experience.
What are you thinking? Feeling? What’s happening in your body? What’s going on around you?
This observation isn’t about judgment—it’s about awareness. Notice the thoughts racing through your mind. Recognize the emotions present. Feel the sensations in your body—tension, heat, constriction.
This step separates you from being fully identified with your reaction. You’re not just angry; you’re experiencing anger. You’re not just overwhelmed; you’re noticing feelings of overwhelm. This slight shift in perspective creates crucial distance between you and your immediate reaction.
P – PROCEED with awareness.
Choose your response instead of reacting on autopilot. This doesn’t mean you won’t still feel strong emotions or that you’ll always make perfect choices. It means you’re bringing consciousness to your actions rather than being driven solely by conditioned responses.
Sometimes the aware choice might look exactly like what you would have done anyway. Other times, it might be radically different. The key is that it’s chosen rather than automatic.
How It Helps in Real Situations
When you feel anger rising at a patient who’s being difficult… STOP.
When you’re overwhelmed by the grief of notifying another family of a loss… STOP.
When the pressure is mounting after thirty-six hours on shift and you want to snap at a colleague… STOP.
When a call reminds you of your own trauma or loss… STOP.
Find that space Frankl talked about. Because that space is where your power is. That’s where emotional control lives. That’s where healing begins. That’s where resilience is built, one conscious choice at a time.
Personal Practice: Building the Muscle
Like any skill, finding the space between stimulus and response requires practice. It’s not something you master overnight, especially if you’ve spent years in reactive patterns. Here are practical ways to develop this capacity:
- Start with low-stakes situations. Practice STOP when you’re mildly annoyed in traffic or slightly frustrated by a minor inconvenience. These moments build the neural pathways that will be available in more intense situations.
- Create physical reminders. Some first responders wear a small item—a band on their wrist, a token in their pocket—that reminds them to find the space between stimulus and response.
- Use routine transitions as practice opportunities. The moments between taking off your uniform and walking into your home, between one call and the next, or between waking and starting your day are natural spaces to practice this awareness.
- Develop a daily mindfulness practice. Even five minutes of focused attention on your breath each day builds the awareness muscle that helps you find that space in critical moments.
- Seek feedback from trusted others. Ask colleagues or loved ones to gently point out when you seem to be reacting automatically rather than responding consciously.
You Can’t Control Everything — But You Can Control This
You won’t always control what happens to you. Life doesn’t work that way. Emergency services certainly doesn’t work that way. But you can control how you respond — and that’s not just psychology, that’s survival.
What you choose to do in the space between the stimulus and your response might be the most important decision you ever make — for your mental health, your relationships, and your future in this challenging profession.
This capacity—to find the space between what happens and how you respond—is perhaps the most essential skill for sustainable service in high-stress roles. It’s what allows you to witness suffering without becoming numb to it. It’s what helps you process grief without being consumed by it. It’s what enables you to face trauma without becoming traumatized by it.
It’s not about never feeling the impact. It’s about having a choice in how that impact shapes you.
From Personal Transformation to Cultural Change
Imagine if this approach became part of your team’s culture. Imagine if finding the space between stimulus and response was as valued as technical competence or physical strength. What might change about burnout rates, about team dynamics, about the longevity of careers in emergency services?
This isn’t just an individual skill; it’s a potential cultural shift. It starts with each person developing this capacity, then ripples outward as teams begin to recognize and value this aspect of professional expertise.
The Ongoing Journey
I wish I could tell you that finding Frankl’s wisdom immediately transformed my grief over my father’s death. It didn’t. What it did was give me a framework—a way to understand that I had choices about how I carried that grief forward.
Some days I still struggle. Some memories still bring that pain. But now I know to STOP. To breathe. To observe what’s happening. And to proceed with awareness rather than being carried away by the initial tsunami of emotion.
So the next time life hits hard — whether it’s a personal loss, a difficult call, or accumulated stress reaching a breaking point — remember: STOP. Breathe. Observe. Proceed.
You’ve got more control than you think.
And in that space between what happens and how you respond lies not just survival, but the possibility of growth, meaning, and even freedom—exactly as Viktor Frankl discovered in the most extreme circumstances imaginable.