Control Your Mind’s Advice for Tough Times
You wake up, and for a second, you think everything’s fine. The sun’s leaking in through the curtains and the world is strangely quiet. But then it all returns: the worries, the stress, that dull ache in your stomach. You remember—the job you lost, the words you wish you’d never said, the thing you can’t fix.
It’s easy to think the mind is on your side. That it will hand you advice when you need it. But today, your mind feels like a traffic cop on strike—flailing signals, no direction, everything piling up in a snarl. You sit at the edge of your bed and try to think your way out, but the noise just gets louder.
This—right here—is when people tell you, “Just stay positive!” Or, “Don’t let it get to you.” But you know that advice is like putting a bandage on a leaky pipe. If you listen closely, your mind is spinning a new kind of story. It’s urgent; it’s all-consuming: “Fix it now. Escape. Run.”
But what if, instead, you step back? Not away from your life, but just away from your mind’s relentless stream of warnings and predictions.
Control your mind? Maybe not. But you can change the way you listen.
Try this: imagine your thoughts as voices at a noisy dinner table. Some are helpful, some are just making a mess. You don’t have to argue with every voice. You don’t have to obey them all. They are your guests, not your captors.
You stand up, make coffee, and notice your breath for a moment. That’s a start. You notice that your mind wants to replay yesterday’s mistakes on a loop. You give it a nod—“Thanks, not right now.” Maybe you write things down: the worst-case scenarios, the wild hopes. Out of your head, onto the page. Now they’re less scary, less urgent.
Outside, birds are screeching. The world hasn’t paused. Your challenges haven’t vanished, but neither has your ability to return, again and again, to what is actually in front of you. You breathe again.
Your mind will offer a thousand pieces of advice in tough times. Some are dire warnings, others small comforts. The trick isn’t to muzzle it, or to force yourself to “think positive,” but to notice: thoughts are not commands. Feelings are not prophecies.
You step into the day, not with perfect control, but with a kind of quiet partnership—learning to listen, choose, and move forward. That is your mind’s true advice: ride the storm, but don’t become the weather