Finding Some Quiet Time
Okay, so folks ask how I keep grounded with all the craziness. It’s not easy, right? Life just throws stuff at you constantly. For me, I figured out I gotta carve out moments just for myself. Really deliberately.
So, what I started doing… it’s simple, really. First, I make sure I won’t be interrupted. That’s key. Lock the door, put the phone on silent. The whole deal. Sometimes it’s early morning, sometimes late at night. Whenever I can grab maybe 15-20 minutes.
Then, I just settle in. Maybe sit on the floor, or just get comfy somewhere quiet. The point is to just… be. You know? I focus on my breathing for a bit. In and out. Sounds basic, I know. But it helps clear the noise in my head.
The Actual Practice Bit
This part’s hard to describe without sounding weird, maybe. It’s really about checking in with myself. Sometimes I’ll just notice where I feel tense. Shoulders, neck… always the neck. I might gently massage my own shoulders, or just rest my hands somewhere comforting, like my lap or over my heart. Feeling the warmth, the steadiness of my own breath. It’s a way to reconnect, I guess.
It’s not about fixing anything, more like just acknowledging. “Ah, okay, that feels tight.” Or, “My hands are cold.” Just noticing. Sometimes I use a nice smelling lotion, focusing on the feeling of smoothing it onto my hands or arms. Slowing right down.
- Find a quiet space.
- Silence distractions.
- Sit or lie comfortably.
- Focus on breath.
- Gentle self-touch, like hands on lap, or maybe a shoulder rub. Just noticing physical sensations.
- Stay present for 10-20 minutes.
Honestly, it felt silly at first. Like, what am I even doing? But I stuck with it. It’s like giving myself permission to just exist for a moment, without having to do anything for anyone else.
Why do I share this? Well, someone asked. And maybe it helps someone else feel less weird about needing that quiet connection time. It’s like that time I tried learning to bake bread during lockdown. Total disaster first few times, flour everywhere, brick-like loaves. But the process of trying, of focusing on just that one thing, kneading the dough… it had a similar calming effect. Even if the result was inedible. It’s the practice, the showing up for yourself, that counts. It makes the rest of the day feel a bit more manageable. That’s the goal, really. Just getting through the day slightly better.
