Original Advice

DO: Set a 10-minute worry window, then move.

Schedule Fear, Choose Motion

Your mind is staging a crime scene for every possible future. You call it preparedness; it's control wearing a crown. The more you analyze, the more the moment rots. You aren't protecting yourself; you're procrastinating under floodlights. Name the fear, clock it, pen it in. Ten minutes. No more. Then get up. Move your body before your brain drags you back.

A timer is a cage for the monster, not a comfort blanket. Pressure makes diamonds; it also makes decisions. When the bell hits, obey. Stand, put on shoes, touch a doorknob, carry the trash out. Motion is the exorcism. Your body outruns the spiral. Questions shrink when oxygen moves. You don't need clarity to begin; you need a deadline and a doorway.

Cosmic Context

Fixed water remembers everything. Point that relentless memory at movement, and you become the tide that erodes obstacles instead of the swamp that breeds them.

Action

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Set a 10-minute timer, worry, then physically leave room.

You are allowed to stop mid-thought and choose motion.