60. Freaking. Seconds.
Yes, there is time.
1,2,3…the only person I can control is me.
Can you pretty please help me? I need gas money. Even though we’re supposed to be apart right now, do you want to go to the movies with me? Sorry it’s last minute, but can you dog-sit tonight? I know it’s your day off, but can you cover a call-out?
Remember, customers’ needs come first. Make sure you take your break on time. Don’t clock out more than fourteen minutes past your scheduled shift. Go with the flow, and adapt to changes — but have a plan. Don’t overthink it. It’s not personal.
You’re just too sensitive.
I have everything I need within me, to succeed.
Practice mindfulness, but plan for the future. Respond, rather than react. Accept what you had and grieve what you didn’t. Give yourself what you need, don’t be codependent — but know when to ask for help. Take care of yourself, but also care for others. Advocate for yourself, but be a team player. Make sure you’re eating well, but allow yourself the occasional treat.
I believe in myself, I trust myself.
Okay, Amanda. It’s time to drive home, get settled in, use the bathroom, change your clothes, then make dinner. Bedtime is 9:30 pm. Simple enough!
Post-work routine, check.
Wait, is today a day I’m supposed to be dog-sitting? No, that’s tomorrow. How much water did I drink today? I’m probably dehydrated. Hmm. What was that song I was listening to? That reminds me! When was the last time I went for a neighborhood walk?
Let’s go, Amanda. It’s time to wake up, do your skincare, get dressed, repeat your affirmations, and take your meds.
Morning routine, check.
Oh— I forgot about breakfast. Sigh.
I see you, I hear you, I understand you.
With a mind entrenched in constant overdrive, everything feels urgent, all at once and all the time. Sorely unable to slow down, I run full speed ahead or crash instantly. Bombarded with one well-intentioned contradiction after the other, stability feels nothing if not futile. The inner work? Promising, but neverending.
When impulsivity blocks intentional success, and depression looms around the corner out of habit — an insidious kind of paralysis ensues, eroding any self-trust in the process.
If I set a goal but don’t follow through, I’ll feel terrible. Why set myself up for failure? It’s better to have nothing concrete than to feel that shame. Nothing is better than a failed something.
Failing doesn’t make me a failure, it’s part of the process.
With a rich history of people-pleasing fighting its way into my rearview, every act of self-advocacy feels selfish — now.
It’s always about Amanda, does she care about anyone else but herself?!
I am a beautiful, kind, and loving person.
When you’re conditioned to abandon yourself to earn the love of another, you soon equate making demands of others with eventual neglect or abandonment.
I am ambitious. I am confident. I am so powerful.
Where do you draw the line between showing up for others, and showing up for yourself? How do you differentiate between a justifiable frustration and a trivial inconvenience? Is wanting to say no when you’re expected to say yes — unquestionably bad? Are you truly “overreacting” if faced with the same obstacle — repeatedly?
Who gets to be the judge of emotions well-suited, and emotions, well-wasted?
I’m tired of proving myself to everyone.
Pulled left, right, back, and center— some days, it’s a miracle I manage to “keep my cool” at all.
1,2,3…the only person I can control is me.
Yes, I can lend you money, but let me shower and get settled in first. Okay, I’ll keep track of time so my punches are correct. I’m unavailable tonight, but if you need help in the future, let me know a little in advance! I can’t come in today, but I hope you find the coverage you need.
I trust I am exactly where I’m meant to be.
I’ll validate my emotions myself, but express them only after I’ve had time to calm down.
Self-check: Am I irritated? Am I overwhelmed? Am I scared? Am I sad? Wait, am I…happy?
Nevertheless, I’ll continue to process in private. I’m aiming for self-sufficiency, as I continue striving toward interdependence. I’m earning my security, a little at a time.
I’m tired of feeling anxious all the time.
I’m tired of fearing failure.
I’m tired of expecting to be left.
In a world reliant upon urgency, there’s rarely enough space or time to “take five.”
Frankly, there’s hardly enough justification to “take two”…not without the secret whispers, the spirited gossip, and the never-ending judgment.
Oh well.
I trust myself to make the right decisions for me.
How about just…one?
Do we have sixty seconds to spare?
Do I?
If sixty seconds made the difference, wouldn’t we all be in favor? If sixty seconds marked the beginning of a breakthrough, rather than a breakdown — wouldn’t we care then? With a foundation of regular maintenance to fall back on, damage control loses its footing.
That devastating imprint? Lessened. Prevented.
With a softly freshened blow and cushions lining the ground beneath you, picking yourself back up isn’t as daunting as it once seemed.
Picking myself up isn’t as daunting as it once was.
1,2,3…the universe is looking out for me.
It’s looking out for you, too.
Here are five ways I like to take 60 seconds, for myself:
Running my hands under cold water/holding ice cubes
Stopping to smell my perfume through my skin/clothing
Boxed breathing: 1, 2, 3, 4, hold…4, 3, 2, 1
A really good cry (bonus points if accompanied by music)
Pausing…motionless
