What will ten minutes change?

Your chest is tight and your head is loud. Something really is wrong today. The money. The message you haven't answered. The person who said the thing. Into all that noise comes an old suggestion with a long record of seeming to help. Ask it what the problem will look like ten minutes from now.

Nothing changes. The money's the same. The message still sits there. You'd come back to it with ten minutes less and one more thing to feel bad about. Stress works like a fire alarm. It's loud because something needs you. The cigarette hits mute on the alarm and leaves the pan on the stove.

What really quiets the alarm is the unfinished thing getting smaller. Spend the next minute on the pan. Not the whole problem. Just the first tiny piece. Send the two line reply. Look up the number. Open the file and type one sentence. Stress starts dropping the moment the thing moves.

Whisper it as you begin. Walk the first step with me. God can hold the rest of the list for now. Starting is enough for this minute. The craving offered to change your mood for ten minutes. You're changing your day instead.