If worrying feels like your full-time job...
this one is for you.
You're probably good at it.
You see problems early.
You plan for what nobody saw coming.
But even full-time jobs have a night off.
And this is yours.
Let your head rest on the pillow.
Let the rain be the first sound.
Before any thought.
It's hitting the gutters.
Running down the downspout.
Nobody asked it to hurry.
Now just notice your thoughts.
Not what they're about.
Just how fast they're going.
Maybe they're tripping over each other.
One starts before the last one ends.
Maybe it's one thought on a loop.
Around and around, like a ceiling fan.
Whatever speed they're going...
you don't have to match it.
For the next six minutes...
you can go slower than your mind.
Breathe in through your nose...
And out through your mouth...
slow, like fogging up a window.
Here's something worriers forget.
Worry can have a schedule.
Tomorrow, maybe after lunch...
you can give it a real slot.
A quarter of an hour.
With a pen and a cup of coffee.
Sit at the kitchen table.
Write down every worry.
Circle the ones you can act on.
That's a real appointment.
Your worries will get their turn.
But this is not that time.
This is the time for sleeping.
Say it to yourself, if you like.
Not now.
Tomorrow.
Your mind might push back.
What if I forget?
What if it's important?
If it's important...
it'll still be there tomorrow.
Important things are like that.
And if you forget it...
it probably wasn't that important.
Let's practice.
It's simple, I promise.
When a thought comes up...
say two words to it.
Softly.
Kindly.
Not now.
Then take five slow breaths out.
You can count them on your fingers.
Thumb touching each fingertip.
Let's try one.
Wait for a thought.
It won't take long.
There it is.
Not now.
Breathe out...
one.
Thumb to your first finger.
Breathe out...
two.
Three.
Your hand is getting heavy.
Four.
And five.
Let your hand rest open.
Notice what happened to the thought.
Maybe it's still there.
But further back.
Here comes another one.
It might be louder this time.
Worries like to try again.
Not now.
One...
Two...
Three...
Four...
You're Five.
not arguing with You're it.
not telling it it's You're wrong.
just saying...
Like later.
telling a kid at bedtime...
we'll talk about it at Keep breakfast.
doing this on As your own.
many times as There's you need.
no limit.
Not now.
Five slow breaths.
Something funny happens after a while.
The mind gets a little bored.
Nobody's playing along.
The thoughts come slower.
With more rain between them.
Your fingers are still.
Your breath is long.
Longer than when we started.
If one more thought taps on the door...
not now.
Breathing in...
And out...
There's nothing to solve tonight.
The rain keeps going.
Steady and plain.
You worked hard enough today.
The Goodnight.
shift is over.