Thoughtful Thursday: Calming the Panic

I’m working remote this week—and when I say remote, I mean in the rugged beauty of Montana, about 45 minutes from Whitefish. It’s been a mix of work and play, and yesterday the play side won out as we hiked the Avalanche Lake Trail in Glacier National Park.

The trail itself is breathtaking, filled with towering cedars, waterfalls, and plenty of time to quiet the mind. But it wasn’t until our descent that the day gave me a lesson worth sharing.

We came upon a woman in full panic. She had been separated from her husband and two children, they left her to check out another area “for a few minutes” and didn’t return for almost an hour. She was convinced they were lost. Other hikers told her they hadn’t seen them descending as they were headed up the trail, which only heightened her fear. Surrounded by strangers, she was ready to run down the trail alone, desperate and frantic.

We paused with her, calmed her, and encouraged her to return to the last place she’d been with her family and wait. She agreed. Not long after, we heard voices calling—and moments later, they were reunited.

It made me think: have you ever had to calm a panicked person? Years ago, when I was a firm administrator, the elevator in our four-story building stalled between floors with a legal secretary inside. She became hysterical, and nothing others tried worked. Finally, with the help of others, we managed to open the door partially. I lay on the floor, looked directly at her, and spoke in a firm but steady voice. Almost like speaking to a child, but what mattered was that it worked—her fear subsided, and she remained calm until we could get her out.

Yes, panic moments happen at work, too.

They may not look like an elevator or a mountain trail, but they’re real: a deadline missed, a client upset, a partner angry, a case collapsing. When emotions run high, what people need isn’t someone to join them in their panic—it’s someone who can stay steady, redirect the energy, and bring clarity.

We don’t know when we’ll be called to be the calm in someone else’s storm. But if we’re ready, we can turn a frantic moment into a restored one—whether on a trail in Montana or in the offices of a law firm conference.

Are you ready for your moment?