I Am the Master of My Time
“I am the master of my time.”
That sentence arrived like a whisper from Source the other day. Out of nowhere—but also not. I was feeling off, I had asked for help, guidance, a little light. And that mantra came through. So, I wrote it down fast in my planner, knowing how quickly my flashes of clarity can vanish if I don’t capture them.
The thing is, my mind had been full. And not in a “productive, creative energy” way—more like a crowded hallway of nagging voices, looping thoughts, and background noise that wouldn’t quit.
You know the kind:
“What’s wrong with you?”
“You’re stupid.”
“You’re always late, and that’s not okay.”
“Why didn’t you do that already?”
“You don’t have time for that.”
“Who are you to think you can do that?”
“You better get that done—you’re behind again.”
Sound familiar?
These weren’t just my thoughts—they were echoes I’ve heard in conversations with friends. Each of us carrying our own loop of mental background noise, like a cruel playlist on repeat. It’s easy to forget we have a say in what plays.
That morning, though, I was reminded. One thought. That’s all it took. I’d been staring at the bathroom counter for weeks, thinking it needed to be wiped down. The spare room shoes needed sorting. The kitchen island was cluttered again. But there was never enough time. Always something else more urgent. Always pushing things to “this weekend.” Always rushing. And yet, I get up at 3:30 a.m. I meditate. I journal. I work on my blog or my book. Technically, I should have more time than anyone I know. But still, the inner voice ran wild. Even when planning something fun with my daughter, Toria, or my granddaughter, Zoe—I was still mapping how to be home by 3:00 to start my evening routine. Yes, I’m in bed by 6:00 p.m. (post-menopause realities), but even so, I wasn’t living. I was timing everything, managing myself like a production schedule. And my body started to show it. My HRV (heart rate variability) dropped. My mood followed. That familiar gray cloud of low energy and sadness started creeping in again. Not full-blown depression, but a dangerous slide toward it. I’ve danced on that edge before—too much time in bed, no motivation, too many tears. I’m self-aware enough to catch it. But I didn’t know what to do this time. Until that mantra dropped in.
“I am the master of my time.”
It changed everything. Within hours of writing it down, the energy shifted. I had more time. The anxious rush I’d been feeling for months? Gone. I started noticing—I actually had time to spare. I arrived 12 minutes early to meet a friend and took a walk around the block. That never happens. Every time I thought about time—or looked at the clock, planned my day, or felt that old pressure rising—I paused and said, either out loud or in my head, “I am the master of my time.” And every single time, it softened something in me. The tension eased. The anxiety loosened its grip. It was like flipping a switch inside. Later that same morning, after walking and lifting weights, I got ready to meet Marla for our Wednesday accountability meetup. I’m usually 10 minutes late—but that day? I had 15 minutes to spare. Enough time to record a video about my new mantra and my shifting relationship with time. It felt like time had expanded just for me. There was a freedom in it. A calm. And it reminded me of something that’s so easy to forget when we’re spinning:
We don’t need more hours in the day. We need a different relationship with time.
It’s wild, really. Our thoughts have the power to make us sick—mentally, emotionally, even physically. Research backs this up: persistent negative self-referent thinking is closely tied to depression. Our minds, if left unchecked, can become our worst enemy. [Study link]
So how do we change it?
For me, it starts with noticing. If you don’t like how you’re feeling lately—notice. Then write. Grab paper and dump your thoughts. Yes, all of them—even the ones that scare you, shame you, or feel “wrong.” Write them out, then burn the paper if you want. Get them out of your head and into the light. They only have power when they stay hidden. You might see the loop. You might find a voice that doesn’t even belong to you anymore. That’s when you can ask for help. From Source. From a book. A podcast. A mentor. There are free resources everywhere. But first, you have to notice what’s going on in that head of yours.
I had been running the White Rabbit loop: “No time! No time! I’m late!” But I didn’t need to fall down a rabbit hole like Alice. I just needed one moment of clarity. One thought that changed the game. Today, I’ve done it all—journaling, meditation, breathwork, writing this blog—and it’s still only 5:55 a.m. I’m not rushing. I’m not stressed. I’m present.
Because I remembered the truth:
I am the master of my time.
Call to Action:
What’s the loop running in your mind that’s draining your energy?
What thought plays on repeat and makes you feel small, anxious, or stuck?
Write it down. Replace it with something that feels true and empowering.
And then—ask. Ask your God, Source, the Universe—whatever you believe in—for guidance.
It works. It really does.
You don’t need to do this alone. Help is always available. All you have to do is ask.