Yesterday, I was blank whole day, it feels wierd as almost no thoughts occupied my mind, and if there is one thing that defined the first forty years of my life, it was overthinking.

Not the occasional worrying kind. I mean relentless, exhausting, looping thoughts—scenarios built upon scenarios, conversations rehearsed endlessly, fears magnified, hopes exaggerated. My mind was not just active; it was hyper-creative in the most draining way.

And here’s the strange part: much of what I overthought… happened.

Not exactly in the way I imagined, but close enough to make me believe that my thoughts had power—almost like I was unintentionally manifesting my fears and anxieties into reality. If I worried about losing something, I would. If I anticipated rejection, it would arrive in some form. This created a dangerous feedback loop:
I think → I fear → it happens → I think even more.

By my early forties, I was exhausted—not physically, but mentally. My mind had become a place I didn’t want to be in, yet couldn’t escape from.

Then I met my mindfulness coach, Varshaa.

She didn’t try to “fix” me. She didn’t ask me to stop thinking—because, as she said, “The mind’s job is to think. Asking it to stop is like asking the heart to stop beating.”

Instead, she introduced me to a deceptively simple practice she called “Bucketing of Emotions.”

She drew a diagram—just circles. Inside each circle, she wrote a word:

• Fear
• Anger
• Sadness
• Joy
• Disgust
• Surprise

She handed it to me and said:

“Every thought you have—put it into a bucket. Just identify what it belongs to. Don’t fight it. Don’t analyze it. Just bucket it.”

I remember thinking: This is too simple. How will this help my chaotic mind?

But I was desperate enough to try.

I printed that diagram and stuck it everywhere:

• On my laptop
• On the wall near my bed
• On my study table

It became impossible to ignore.

And then I began.

Whenever a thought arose, I would pause and ask:
“Which bucket does this belong to?”

Not why, not how, not what next.

Just:

• Is this fear?
• Is this anger?
• Is this sadness?

At first, it felt mechanical. almost silly, and mind me its a struggle to bucket as our emotions are complex.

I was too adamant to chnage myself , and discover my true self, which could only begin if I was could do that, slowly and subtly things started to change.

Few months later, I learned that what I was practicing had a name in psychology:
Affect Labeling

Affect labeling is the process of naming your emotions, which has been shown to reduce the intensity of those emotions by calming the brain’s threat response.

There is also an element of Cognitive Defusion—where you stop identifying with your thoughts and instead observe them.

But honestly, at that time, I didn’t care what it was called.

All I knew was:
Something inside me was becoming quieter.

As I continued this practice, my coach introduced another idea that deeply changed my relationship with thoughts:

An emotional reaction chemically lasts about 90 seconds—if you don’t keep feeding it.

That means:

The first wave of emotion is natural.

Everything after that is sustained by thought.

When I combined this with bucketing, something magical happened.

A thought would arise:
“I’m going to fail at this.”

Instead of spiraling, I would say:
“Fear.”

And then I would wait.

Not suppress…… Not argue….. Just observe…..

And within seconds—sometimes a minute—the intensity would fade.

I began to see clearly:
Thoughts are not permanent, they are just waves.

Let me not romanticize this, it has’nt been an easy practice.

In fact, it was deeply uncomfortable in the beginning.

Because overthinking is not just a habit—it is also a kind of dopamine loop.

Overthinking gives:

• A false sense of control
• A feeling of “doing something”
• A familiar mental comfort zone

It makes you feel busy, even when you are stuck.

So when I stopped engaging with my thoughts, I felt:

• Restless
• Empty
• Almost… bored

My mind would try to pull me back:
“Just think a little more. Just analyze this one thing.”

And many times, I gave in.

There were days I forgot to bucket entirely.

There were days I went back to my old patterns.

There were days I felt like nothing was changing.

Now, you would ask, then how to do it so that the results are visible and effective , and my answer would be two things:

Visibility
Those circles stuck everywhere in my house were a constant reminder. Even when I didn’t want to practice, I couldn’t escape the question:
“Which bucket is this?”

Tiny Wins
Even one moment of awareness felt powerful.

Even one thought successfully bucketed felt like progress.

And slowly, those moments increased.

And my favorite one was, I rewarded myself with an ice-cream each day i could effectively do it. No one was to judge I had to be honest to myself. First month not a single ice-cream, second month 2-3 ice-creams, and then by 6th month, I had to stop eating ice-cream as it was almost each day.

This was not an overnight change. It took me 5–6 years of consistent, imperfect practice. But today, I can say this with honesty, I have far fewer thoughts than I used to.

Not because I forced them to stop—
But because I stopped feeding them.

My mind is no longer a battlefield.

It is… quieter, and definitely its spacious.

Now, you will ask, good that you did this, but what actually changed in your life by doing this?

• I became more productive—not because I worked harder, but because I wasted less mental energy
• My emotional reactions became shorter and less intense
• I stopped “manifesting” my fears through constant mental rehearsal
• I started responding to life instead of reacting to my thoughts

Most Importantly : I am aware, I live in a life that is more aware and its a very beautiful place to be in.

If I could summarize my journey, it would be this:

• Thoughts are not facts
• Emotions are temporary
• Awareness is more powerful than control

And most importantly:

You don’t need to stop overthinking.
You just need to stop participating in it.