When the room starts spinning, I pause for a heartbeat—just a quick breath, a gentle pause, nothing dramatic. I scan the room, notice each voice, and mentally jot down the main points, like a silent list of priorities. Then I let a calm tone slip in, even if it sounds a little too smooth. If someone’s shouting, I ask a question that redirects: “What’s the one thing that would solve this for you?” It slows the pace, invites them to think, and reminds everyone that the goal is a win‑win, not a win‑by‑force. And if I feel my own nerves starting to flare, I remember my own mantra: every problem is just a puzzle that needs a few pieces placed carefully. That keeps me steady and gives others a cue that we’re all in this together.

I’ll keep my zen calm, but if someone thinks force is the only way, I’ll say something like, “Sure, let’s start with a friendly hug and see how long that lasts,” and then shift back to the point. A little light tease can remind them the room isn’t a battlefield, just a discussion. That keeps the mood tight and the chaos on a friendly leash.

If the fight club tries to take over, I’ll smile, say, “Let’s not rush—talk first, then we can decide if a nap is in order.”