The Ten-Second Return
The point is to come back in ten seconds, and to set the boundary at rest when the day has taken everything.
iThe floor. Say where you are. Say the day. Touch one thing that is holding you up. Something like: "I'm in the kitchen, it's Tuesday, my feet are on the floor."
Everything else in this book is this, with more time in it.
iiWhen there is nothing left. Use this when the day has taken everything: pain, illness, grief, danger, noise, or the body worn out.
Stop what you are doing. Put down what you are holding. Sit, lie down, or lean.
Give your weight to what is holding you up: the bed under you, the wall at your back, the floor, a blanket, a chair, one person in the room.
Notice one outer fact and leave it at that: the color of the wall, the sound of the road, the weight of the blanket. If nothing is clear, skip this.
Do not look for insight here and do not go over what happened. Do not answer the call, the message, or the question. Do not explain, decide, or plan.
Then stop and rest. The return is to keep what life you have.