Five Minute Rule
In your fifties is not the time to be broke. But here we are. Our plans didn’t pan out and now we’re looking down the barrel to a broke retirement. A strange thing happens though when we realise that this is our future. It also becomes our present. Panic sets in and then paralysis. The paralysis seeps into every single element of our lives and before we know it there is laundry piled up, dishes on the sink, unopened mail, unread books and unwatched shows. We are frozen because we’re broke and don’t know how to get out of it or where to go next and nothing else can be achieved until we solve this problem.
For me, the paralysis was met with fear and apathy. What’s the point of even trying? I’m screwed. Everyone has beaten me and is better at life than me. I have lost the game of life – except – I’m still alive. So technically I’m still in the game. But I’m afraid to move, roll the dice, move my piece and collect $200.00 because I know that that $200.00 is gone before I even get it and I probably won’t make it around the board.
I don’t know where I came across this, but I heard about the five minute rule. Do one task, and one task only for just five minutes. Then stop. Set a timer and stop. Don’t keep going even if you’re in a groove because this will lead to exhaustion or you will find yourself down a rabbit hole.
I started implementing this. In very tiny steps. I started to just spend five minutes on my environment. What I meant by my environment was my desk, or my kitchen, or my living room. Just five minutes of straightening up, throwing out rubbish, doing the dishes, wiping down the stove. Nothing was done perfectly. I suck at housework generally so it’s never perfect, but I try and that to me is what’s important.
What I found when I did this, after I stood back and saw what I had achieved, gave me relief. Something looked nice. I had space. I was not so engulfed.
As my space became straightened up, five minutes at a time, I found that ideas began to come and I was able to execute on them. Probably not well, but I could try. I found I could try something for another five minutes. I gradually was coming out of my paralysis. Five minutes at a time.
It’s not a miracle cure for being broke. I still am panicking inside. But the panic does not seem as all consuming. I can do little things each day that will help me. I don’t have to come up with one big job, one big solution that is going to solve everything and then I can relax about my financial woes.
This of course has been the way forward all along, but in the midst of panic and embarrassment and despair, I was unable to see it. If I only do one thing for the next ten years, I’m going to be OK. So if I am able to execute all of my other plans along side this, I’m going to be OK.
The problem with this is that today, yesterday and tomorrow, I know my kids will need something. I might get sick or hurt and I have no backup – none.
When I go down this hole of desperation, I do one thing for five minutes to change my focus and my energy. By doing this, I have found a sense of calm, achievement and hope. It’s going to be OK and 100 years it won’t matter anyway.
I’m also going to try to apply this technique to my writing from now on. I have lists of articles I need to write so when I have an opportunity I can just grab the title and start it. But the list itself became overwhelming. It turned into a huge task that had to be completed, something I had to do, something I had to achieve, something else I could fail at.
Breathe.
Five minutes at a time. It’s all we really have anyway.
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