Hey, maybe we don’t have to be on time for everything, maybe we can just… exist and dream a bit 💭💕
You know what I adore about Dalí’s melting clocks? Time deciding to chill out and get a little glam. Draping itself lazily over branches and tables like satin scarves. Instead of ticking away all bossy and strict, it’s soft, melty, and totally unbothered by the rules.
It feels so deliciously rebellious and artsy to me.
We all have “a day” every now & then
Yesterday was well, a mucky muddy monsoon day.
Came home from work with my mind buzzing, shoulders locked up, whole body humming with leftover office static. One of those days that feels half‑good, half‑bad, but ends up heavy anyway. Meetings that went fine, meetings that didn’t, words I wish I could unsay.
I know that I have the capacity to word vomit & sometimes the vomit needs to stay inside the stomach and not come out. Period.
All I wanted was to dig a whole and bury myself in it. Sit in my room with the lights out & cry the sobbing cry.
Funny part? My sister actually tried to get a box of donuts for me as a surprise. But it turned out to be out of stock. Even the universe was like, “No donut for you today.”
To top it all, by sheer co-incidence, I had a 9:00 pm meditation class that I’d planned to attend earlier in the week. & I wanted nothing to do with it. At that moment, it felt impossible. My mind kept saying: “Just skip it. You’re tired. It won’t help anyway.”
I stood there, staring at the clock, and bargained with myself.
“Alright. Two minutes. Give it two minutes. If you still feel like shit after that, log out. Full permission.”
And then, weirdly, the first two minutes passed. My breath slowed a bit. The sharp edges inside softened, becoming almost jelly. Then two minutes turned into ten. Then sixty.
By the end, I felt… different. Lighter.
I even caught myself smiling and in my head, almost shyly, sending these sparkly pink balls of light to everyone who’d pissed me off that day.
“We’re okay. I forgive you. I forgive me too.”
The science (but in plain words)
When we’re stressed, our nervous system flips into fight‑or‑flight. Fast heart, tight chest, racing thoughts.
Slow, steady breathing, especially longer exhales, tells the body, “You’re safe.” Your diaphragm moves, and that gently nudges the vagus nerve (which runs from your brain to your heart and gut). That little nudge helps your whole system switch to rest‑and‑digest mode.
It’s not woo. It’s actually measurable.
In a 2017 study (Frontiers in Human Neuroscience), people who practiced slow breathing (about six breaths a minute) had lower heart rates, lower blood pressure, and higher heart rate variability, basically, their bodies calmed down.
And a 2018 study (Journal of Clinical Psychology) found that even five minutes of breathing cut down anxiety.
Breathing doesn’t erase the mess. But it stops it from living rent‑free in your chest.
What helps me on eff-ed up days
The two‑minute promise. “Just start. You can quit after two minutes.”
Notice the exhale. Make it a little longer than the inhale.
Touch something. Cold water on my feet, hand on my chest.
Imagine softness. Pink light in my chest, then out to whoever I’m angry at.
Mostly writing this as a note to self. But maybe also to you, if you’ve had one of those days lately:
Breathing won’t fix everything. But it might be enough to keep the day from following you to bed.
PS: I turn 26 tomorrow!!!
If you enjoyed this post & wanna read more of my work, here’s the entire archive! But I also have 4 main tags & topics you can bounce your reading with.
See you next Wednesday!
Iloveyouuu 🧡🌷
Thank you for the 2-minute rule. I needed it and I'm going to use it often. Hand-on-chest is another one that appeals to me. It feels good. Almost surprisingly so!
Old soul for 26 years gracing this planet