Anchoring: Five-Minute Pockets of Peace (Even When the Day Is Loud… Why Is It Always So F***ing Loud?)
Some days feel like a never-ending group project you did not sign up for.
There is noise.
There are needs.
There is someone touching you at all times.
And while the internet keeps suggesting “self-care,” what you actually need is five uninterrupted minutes where no one says “Mom?” from another room.
This week’s theme is Anchoring—using small pockets of peace throughout your day as mini anchors you can return to when the chaos inevitably swells again.
Not to become a serene goddess.
Not to fix anything.
Just to remember you exist inside the noise.
Because even if the day is loud—
why is it always so fucking loud?
What Anchoring Actually Is (And What It’s Not)
Anchoring is not a routine you have to maintain.
It’s not another thing to fail at.
It’s not a “you should meditate more” conversation.
Anchoring is about building tiny, realistic moments of steadiness into a life that is already full.
Five minutes.
Sometimes less.
Enough to tell your nervous system:
“We’re okay. I’m still here.”
Step One: Find the Pockets
We’re not adding time.
We’re stealing it back.
Pockets already exist in your day—you just haven’t been calling them sacred yet.
Some very real-life pockets:
Your kid suddenly locks into their own little zone of independent play
(You slowly, quietly back out of the room like you’re diffusing a bomb—duh, only if they’re safe and old enough.)Taking out the garbage
(Even if there is no garbage. No one needs to know.)Standing outside at night looking at the stars, or the sunset, or the ground, or a tree or absolutely nothing
(Bonus points if your partner is home and no one can follow you.)Sitting in the car before going inside
(And if you never get to be alone in the car—because someone is always with you—I see you. Truly. Your day will come.)The shower, where you are not performing—just standing there, letting the water hit your shoulders
Waiting for the coffee to brew
That strange quiet right after school drop-off when the car feels too empty
Hiding in the bathroom
(during COVID, when my oldest and I were surviving long hibernation days inside, I used to sit in the shower fully clothed, fan on, hands over my ears, watching her on the monitor in silence. Sometimes pockets look like survival. That still counts.)
These aren’t luxuries.
They’re doorways.
Step Two: Name Your Trigger Windows (Without Shaming Yourself)
Let’s be real—your overwhelm isn’t random.
There are predictable times of day when your nervous system is already running on fumes.
Common trigger windows for moms:
Mornings (rushing, pressure, logistics)
After school (everyone is wrecked and hungry)
Dinner + homework + noise = no thank you
Bedtime (when your body is begging to be done)
Instead of asking, “Why am I so irritable?”
Try asking:
“When does my capacity reliably drop?”
That’s not a flaw.
That’s information.
Step Three: Use Pockets Strategically (This Is the Whole Point)
Here’s the shift:
Your pocket of peace is either:
before a trigger window (to ground you), or
after a trigger window (to help you recover)
And sometimes—this matters just as much—it’s something to hold onto mentally while you’re in the thick of it.
When you know a pocket is coming, something inside you loosens.
There’s a quiet internal whisper that says:
“This is hard—but I’m not trapped here.”
That hope alone is regulating.
What Your Pocket Can Look Like (There Is No Right Way)
Your pocket does not need to look impressive.
It does not need to be productive.
It does not need to be calm.
It just needs to bring you back into your body.
Some options:
Three slow breaths (yes, that counts)
Standing outside and feeling the air
One sentence in a journal
Stretching your arms overhead
Shaking your body out
Doodling or painting for a few minutes
Smelling something grounding
Putting on one song and moving
Holding a warm mug and doing absolutely nothing else
If it helps you feel more here, it works.
If it feels like homework, it’s not a pocket—it’s a task. Drop it.
A Final Truth (Because Someone Needs to Say This)
Some days your pocket will feel nourishing.
Some days it will feel neutral.
Some days you’ll miss it entirely.
None of that means you’re doing it wrong.
Anchoring isn’t about control.
It’s about relationship—with yourself, with your nervous system, with the reality of this season.
Five minutes won’t fix your life.
But it might help you stay inside it.
And honestly?
That’s enough.
With so much love from my messy middle to yours,
-Jess xoxo
