Feel the moment where choice actually lives
Viktor Frankl wrote, “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.” You may have seen the quote floating over a mountain sunrise. The real power isn’t in how it looks; it’s in how it lands—in the exact second you want to slam a door, fire off the sharp email, or quit on yourself.

In my work with leaders and high performers, this “space” is not a poetic metaphor. It’s a lived frontier. It’s the micro-moment when your nervous system fires, the limbic system shouts protect, and your prefrontal cortex (PFC)—the brain area for planning and impulse control—has a chance, just a chance, to step in and ask: “Who do I want to be right now?”
Most people search for freedom by expanding external options: more time, more money, more flexibility, more control. Yet Frankl, writing out of Auschwitz, pointed to a different freedom: “the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.” That space is small, but it is not empty. It is where your identity stops being a reflex and starts becoming a decision.
Make the space between stimulus and response bigger with meaning, not just calm
From a behavioral and neuroscience perspective, that space is where higher brain functions can modulate automatic reactions. But from an existential perspective, it’s also where meaning enters. Frankl called this the “will to meaning”—a drive deeper than pleasure or status. When something happens, your brain doesn’t only ask, “Is this safe?” It also asks, “What does this mean?” Your answer quietly shapes your next sentence, your next meeting, your next relationship repair.
Here is where mindfulness becomes more than a relaxation technique. Mindfulness, as I use it in coaching, is the practice of inhabiting that space long enough to notice the meaning you are about to assign—without suppressing the reaction and without judging it.
“I feel rejected.” “I feel threatened.” “I feel invisible.”
Those are emotions, yes—but they’re also interpretations. They’re your brain’s first draft of meaning. And as Irena Golob often reminds clients, you are not your first draft.
Frankl described three avenues to meaning: through work or creation, through love and connection, and through the attitude we take toward unavoidable suffering. Notice how practical this gets. A blunt comment on your presentation can become proof you’re failing—or an invitation to refine your craft (meaning in work). A tense moment with your partner can become “we’re doomed”—or an opportunity to listen differently (meaning in love). A loss, diagnosis, or setback can become a dead end—or the beginning of a new inner stance (attitudinal meaning).
Notice the modern thief: distraction that steals your agency
What makes this hard in 2026 isn’t that we lack options; it’s that we’re drowning in them. Frankl warned of an “existential vacuum”—a sense of inner emptiness when life is comfortable but unanchored. In that vacuum, the space between stimulus and response gets hijacked by distraction. Instead of asking, “What is life asking of me right now?” we reach for the nearest escape: scrolling, snacking, overworking, performing, buying, numbing.
From a behavioral lens, this is understandable. Your brain loves quick relief. But from a meaning lens, it’s costly. Every time you outsource that space to habit or algorithm, you reinforce the idea that you are primarily driven by comfort, approval, or control. Yet what I see in coaching—especially with high achievers who look “fine” on paper—is that when people touch purpose, they can tolerate discomfort with surprising steadiness. The will to meaning really is that strong.
This is where Irena Golob’s work often shifts from “manage the emotion” to “meet the moment.” Mindfulness becomes remembering that the present moment is asking you a question: How will you respond? Not perfectly. Not politely. But truthfully—aligned with your values.
If you want a deeper dive into this kind of values-based behavioral change, explore my writing and tools on my Website.
A two-question practice for real-world triggers
This looks inspiring in theory and brutally hard in practice, especially when suffering is not optional. Frankl named the “tragic triad”: pain, guilt, and death. These are the places where control shrinks and responsibility expands. He spoke of “tragic optimism”—the ability to say yes to life in spite of everything.
From a behavioral standpoint, that’s where many tools feel thin. You can’t “hack” grief. You can’t reframe away every loss. But you can choose an attitude that honors your humanity. You can decide your pain won’t be wasted—without romanticizing it.
Try this the next time you feel triggered (in a meeting, on the commute, in a family text thread):
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Question 1: “What meaning am I about to give this?”
“I’m about to make this feedback mean I’m incompetent.” “I’m about to make their silence mean I don’t matter.” -
Question 2: “Is there a meaning more aligned with who I want to be?”
Not more positive—more aligned. “This is a chance to practice courage.” “This is an invitation to set a boundary with respect.” “This is my moment to stay kind while I’m hurt.”
You won’t choose the wiser response every time. None of us do. But each time you remember the space exists, you weaken the story that you are only your reactions. You strengthen the truth that you are also the one who can observe, choose, and grow.
This is for informational purposes only and not a substitute for professional advice. Consult a qualified expert for personal guidance.