The Most Expensive Thing You Own

THE PULSE

This is what matters this week.

Time has become both a status symbol and a scarcity wound.

In high-achieving environments, being busy is code for being valuable.
But the truth underneath the overpacked calendar is often emptiness—
a hunger for presence, for breath, for being.

We’ve been conditioned to treat time as a prize we have to earn,
instead of a resource we already possess.
And in that misalignment, we sacrifice what matters most:
vitality, intimacy, clarity, and creative freedom.

Speed is not your nature. It’s your armor.

When women tell me they don’t have time to rest, to play, to reconnect—
what they’re often really saying is: It doesn’t feel safe to slow down.

We live in a 24/7 world addicted to adrenaline.
Not because it feels good,
but because our nervous systems have been wired
to confuse urgency with importance,
and depletion with devotion.

But high-speed isn’t high-functioning.
You weren’t built for constant acceleration.
You were built for rhythm.

Look around:
The entire natural world operates on rhythm.
The tides rise and fall in sacred cadence.
The moon waxes and wanes with precision.
Seasons shift, forests rest, flowers bloom—
all in divine timing.

Even your own body echoes this intelligence
through your circadian rhythms and monthly cycles.

When we break from these innate rhythms,
we fracture the systems that sustain us.
Illness, inflammation, insomnia, infertility, burnout—not random.
They’re the body’s protest to a pace it was never meant to maintain.

I’ve seen time dysregulation erode everything
from immune systems to marriages
to million-dollar visions.

Not because women aren’t capable,
but because they’re caught in a cultural tempo that rewards disconnection.

When you live in fight-or-flight, time shrinks.
When you recalibrate into rhythm, time expands.
And with it, so does your capacity—
for depth, for beauty, for truth.

The reclamation begins here, from this place.
We stop organizing our lives around speed,
and start building a rhythm that can sustain our brilliance.

Because what you create from regulation
will always exceed
what you hustle toward in dysregulation.

THE DEEP TAKE

Where we go deeper—science, story, truth.

Time is not fixed. It’s felt.
And for most of my life, I felt it like a warning.

Even in moments of beauty or achievement—
graduations, the birth of my daughters, quiet nights under the stars—
I would think: I have to remember this. It’ll be gone soon.

I wasn’t being sentimental.
My sense of nostalgia was a trauma response.
The invisible inheritance of a culture that
ties time to worth and urgency to aliveness.

And it was compounded by my years in emergency medicine,
where one moment could fracture everything.

Death wasn’t theoretical. It was present.
And it left me with a deep, somatic belief
that time was scarce, fragile,
and something capable of stealing my happiness.

Years of trauma and adrenaline—
both personal and professional—
hardwired urgency into my system.

Stress became a tempo.
And in that tempo, time collapsed.

Moments that could have offered breath
became battlegrounds for control.
I didn’t occupy time—I raced it.
And I was its fiercest competitor.

It wasn’t until I began to study and understand
the subconscious, quantum physics, metaphysics,
and spiritual psychology
that I saw clearly:

Time is a human construct.

What’s Real is presence.
What’s Eternal is spirit.

Time is relative, not absolute.
Which means our experience of it can change.
That puts it in a category of lesser authority.
Not unimportant—but not ultimate.

It means time is not the measure of our life.
It’s the medium through which our life expresses.

And when we shift how we meet time—
with reverence, not resistance—
we shift what it mirrors back to us.

That realization was profound,
but the integration was painstaking.

I had to learn—
through bodywork, through breakdown, through spiritual practice—
to stop gripping time like a possession,
and begin entering it as a portal.

So as we release the fear of time running out,
and see it as an entrance into our life expression,
we begin to live inside the now.

Not the checklist. Not the clock.
The ever-present NOW.

And in that space, time stretches.
Sensation deepens.
Awareness expands.
Moments feel longer, richer, more alive.

This is how we slow down time.
Not by managing it, but by inhabiting it fully.

When you slow down—truly, somatically—
you reclaim access to the timeless.

To the part of you that remembers
you are not here to perform or produce,
but to participate in the unfolding of capital-L Life.

And from that place,
you begin to design time from the inside out.

You stop managing it.
You begin generating it.

That’s the shift.

IN REAL LIFE

What it actually looks like.

Maximizing your time isn’t about discipline.
It’s about devotion—and you have to choose that.

The most successful, fulfilled, happy people in the world
know that protecting their time is a must.
They’ve become masterful at the art of
time sovereignty and filtering what enters their time-space field.

To live outside the tyranny of time debt,
You have to re-pattern your relationship to it—
In behavior,
In environment,
And in energetic architecture.

Here’s how:

▶ Start your day with intentional spaciousness.
No phone.
No inbox.
No screen within arm’s reach.
Don’t even sleep with your phone in the room.

You’ve been conditioned to think you need to check messages,
news, or updates the moment your eyes open.
You don’t.
That’s the dopamine-adrenaline loop hijacking your sovereignty
before you’ve even stood up.

Do this instead:
Take the first 15 minutes of your day for yourself.
Stretch.
Light a candle.
Journal.
Drink water.
Touch your body.
Breathe deeply.

Let your system calibrate before it has to respond to anything.

This is self-leadership.

▶ Design your calendar for nervous system wealth.
If your schedule reads like a factory belt—
no gaps, no pause—
You’re not managing time.
You’re hemorrhaging life force.

Back-to-back calls and productivity sprints
are a trauma-informed pacing pattern.
They teach your body that speed equals survival.

You don’t need to earn stillness with exhaustion.

Do this instead:
Build in at least 10–15 minutes between meetings.
Not to scroll.
Not to catch up on email.
But to breathe, stretch, walk, drink something, look out a window.

This is non-negotiable.
Let your energy return to you.

This is somatic intelligence.

▶ Use tech as a sacred gatekeeper—not a time thief.
Turn off non-human alerts:
notifications, auto-reminders, random pings.
These are micro-abandonments of your attention
—and they’re cumulative.

Don’t let your phone decide what you think about today.
Choose undivided energy.

Do this instead:
Set two intentional “tech windows” per day when you check messages.
Outside those windows, your phone stays on do-not-disturb.
Let silence become your baseline—not distraction.

You don’t need to be available to everyone to be powerful.
You need to be attuned to you to be impactful.

This is temporal discernment.

▶ Close loops with precision—not perfection.
Perfectionism is another trauma-informed pace—
One that says your safety depends on over-delivery.

It convinces you that the more you give,
the more you’re worth.

But energetic clarity is a more honest benchmark.
And your body knows this best.
It knows when something is complete.

Do this instead:
Before you polish or re-edit again, pause.
Ask: Is the energy complete here?
Feel what the body says, not the mind.

If so, stop.
Release the task.
Reclaim your time.

Done is when the energy is complete
—not when your body is depleted.

This is wise conservation.

▶ Track what brings expansion—not just results.
Metrics are not meaning.
Your body doesn’t care how many tasks you checked off.

The most life-giving actions won’t show up on a KPI sheet:
Laughing from your belly.
Moving your body to music.
Writing one line that cracks something open.

Do this instead:
Pay attention to what opens your field.
What work makes you breathe deeper.
What conversations make you want to stay longer.

Each evening, jot down one thing that made you feel most alive.
Keep a list.
Let it shape your decisions.

This is alignment.

▶ Invest your best energy in what transcends the timeline.
You’ve been spending your peak energy on inboxes,
spreadsheets, and tasks that will be forgotten in a week.
That’s time poverty in disguise.

Do this instead:
Put your clearest energy toward the long arc.
Identify your “golden hour” of the day—
when you’re at your clearest and most inspired.
Protect it fiercely.

Use it for legacy work:
Writing.
Visioning.
Creating.
Connecting.

For the conversation that deepens your intimacy.
The sentence that reshapes your story.

Make the most expensive thing you own work in service of what actually matters.

This is the meaning of sacred.

You’ve been told that being “good with time” means cramming more into less.
But that’s not mastery.

It’s ludicrous when you really think about it.
More into less…really?

True mastery is presence.
And presence is what makes time expand.

FROM THE WELL

A curated ritual for embodied luxury.

The Time Capsule Letter

There’s something deeply luxurious about pausing to feel the shape of your life.
To step outside the noise and remember
that your most expensive possession—your time
is already dripping with meaning.

This week, gift yourself one quiet, uninterrupted pocket of presence.
Not to plan. Not to optimize.
But to commune with the version of you
who’s already on the other side of the rush.

Write her into form.

A letter. From ten years in the future.
Not the hustled version.
Not the hyper-optimized one.
But the one who knows exactly what she’s about.

She’s unhurried.
Unbothered.
Unavailable to urgency.
And deeply, unmistakably fulfilled.

Make this a ritual:
• Use luxe stationery or a textured journal—something worthy of your future self.
• Brew tea or pour wine. Set the scene.
• Burn your favorite candle. Light incense.
• Write by hand. Let it be slow.
• When you’re done, seal it. Store it in your sock drawer or altar.
Mark your calendar to read it one year from now.

If you feel like you don’t have time to do this—
that’s exactly why you must.

Because the part of you that believes spaciousness is indulgent
is the same part starving for self-regard.

This exercise interrupts the urgency you're currently living in with creative vision.
It invites coherence between your mind and your heart.
It draws a clear line between what you've been performing
and who you actually came here to be.

You stop living for the clock.
You start living from the core.

From this place of presence and devotion,
you can literally create your life into being.
Everything begins in mind.
You create your future in this present moment.

Luxury required: just presence, paper, and
a willingness to meet the woman you’re becoming.

THE LAST WORD

Time isn’t a thief. It’s a mirror.

The more regulated you become,
the more beautifully it reflects your true desires and values.
Fulfillment builds from this place.
Not someday. Now.

You don’t have to earn your rest.
You don’t have to apologize for your pace.

We aren’t meant to be captive to time—
to be confined or controlled by it.
We were born to expand it.

And we have every ability and capacity to do so,
if we're willing.
It’s true.

You create your life in this moment,
not in the margins.

And when you choose presence
over the warped version of time we’ve been conditioned to live in—
you remember what’s actually priceless.

This is how you begin to use your most expensive possession—
your time—
to live well,
to lead boldly,
to build a lavish life.

That’s the work.
That’s the medicine.

Until next week…

Be well. Be fierce. Be lavish.