Feeling Trapped?
Why TMFY might be the most important acronym you learn this year
Last night, I sat in my third graduate class waiting for the literary equivalent of a colonoscopy—necessary, but not exactly comfortable.
Not really, but that's how it felt. My short story—all 15 pages of it—was about to be dissected by my Advanced Fiction classmates. I'd volunteered to go first because, well, someone had to, and I figured I might as well get the humiliation over with early.
Here's what I believe about putting your work out there: it's terrifying every single time. Doesn't matter if you've been writing for decades or if this is your first rodeo. That moment when you're waiting for feedback? Your stomach drops like you're on a roller coaster you never wanted to ride.
But here's what I learned from my professor on day one: "You'll learn more from critiquing other authors than receiving critiques on your own work." She was absolutely right. Sitting there, listening to my peers tell me what worked and what didn't, I realized something profound was happening. I wasn't just getting feedback on my story—I was getting schooled on how to see my own blind spots.
The Story That Started It All
My story is called "TRAPPED," and it opens like this:
"I didn't feel trapped, yet I knowingly was. Not by the flashing blue lights or the kitchen chair beneath me, but by something older—something that had lived inside me since the day she left. There was no escape. No plausible explanation. Not to the handyman who bought the house from my father thirty years ago. Not to the family renting the place now. Not to the uniformed officers posted around me. And certainly not to my own family. How long had I been sitting at the kitchen table, in my usual spot? Why did I feel no shame, no embarrassment, no fear? The lights strobed around me. Police radios cracked. I heard none of it. Saw nothing. But I was finally free. For the first time, the house wasn't holding me."
Sound familiar? It should. While it's fiction, I'm pulling from real-life experiences and stretching them into something that explores what it means to feel stuck. The protagonist isn't literally trapped by police lights—he's trapped by something much more insidious. Something we all know intimately.
We All Know That Feeling
We're all writers, whether we realize it or not. Every day we wake up, we're working on our life's story. And too often, that story starts like my fictional protagonist's—feeling trapped before we even get out of bed.
Trapped by the dreaded to-do list. Trapped by scrolling through social media and comparing our behind-the-scenes to everyone else's highlight reel. Trapped by toxic people or soul-sucking work environments. Trapped by our own negative thoughts that seem to have taken permanent residence in our heads.
Sound about right?
Here's the brutal truth: We often allow this to happen. We wake up and immediately hand over control to whatever chaos awaits us. But what if we flipped that script?
The Art of Ripping Off Duct Tape
You know I'm a big believer in meditation, specifically Transcendental Meditation (TM). I'm too scattered to focus on breathing (honestly, breathing feels like a special skill some days), so I need a mantra to keep me anchored.
Here's how TM was explained to me, and it changed everything: Those negative thoughts, that trapped feeling, all that stress and anxiety? They're like duct tape stuck to a table. Meditation is the act of ripping off that tape, stripping away those thoughts that don't serve us.
Don't be alarmed if, later that day, the tape is back. At the office, in the shower, lying in bed at 2 AM, worrying about things you can't control. So we meditate again the next day and rip off the tape. And repeat.
What happens to duct tape when you keep ripping it off the same surface? The glue starts to wear off. Eventually, it won't stick anymore.
That's what consistent meditation does to those trapped feelings. The more you practice, the less those negative thoughts have power over you. You'll still have bad days, but you won't wake up feeling like you're drowning in them.
TMFY: The Simple Practice That Changes Everything
Want to start changing your story right now? Here's what I'm calling TMFY: Take Minutes For Yourself.
Before anyone else wakes up. Before you check your phone. Before you dive into the chaos of your day. Take ten minutes—just ten—and do something purely for you. Not for your kids, your spouse, your boss, or your endless responsibilities. For you.
Open that book you've been meaning to read. Start a meditation practice. Break out those walking shoes. Write in a journal. Plan your day while the world is still quiet. Hell, just sit in silence and drink your coffee without scrolling through the news.
Try it for three days straight. I can almost guarantee you'll feel less trapped than when you started.
The Right Time is Right Now
In my graduate class, we start every session with ten minutes of writing. The professor gives us a prompt, and we just go. Ten minutes. No overthinking, no waiting for inspiration, no excuses about not having enough time.
It's the same advice I give every aspiring writer: write every day. Five minutes, fifteen minutes, fifty minutes—doesn't matter. Just write. Build that muscle memory.
But here's the thing: this isn't just about writing. It's about everything. There will never be a perfect time to start that meditation practice, make that phone call to your mom, begin that creative project, or take those ten minutes for yourself.
The right time is right now.
Your Story is Still Being Written
My fictional protagonist thought he was trapped, but in that moment of surrender, he found a sense of freedom. Sometimes we have to sit in the uncomfortable places—like waiting for your story to be critiqued by a room full of strangers—to realize we're not as stuck as we think.
Your story is still being written. Every day, you get to choose how that next chapter begins. You can start with TMFY, or you can start trapped.
Take those minutes. Rip off that duct tape. Write your next chapter on your own terms.
The first draft might suck. So might the second. But it will get better. I promise.
See you next week.
For me I've found a quick walk in the back woods gets me away from the creative process long enough to reset and clear out the clutter that's blocking my vision. Sometimes it takes a bit longer than ten minutes but well worth it.
I feel the same way every time I write and submit a piece of marketing content to a new client. It doesn't matter that I’ve been writing for 25 years, and clients generally like what I've produced. It still hits me the same way every time.
I'm trying to write a book. Very different from writing marketing collateral. hopefully that’ll make it easier for me. I need to do what you suggest and write for at least 10 minutes every day to get better. Hopefully, that’ll make it easier for me.