The actual question is, will you be among the 96% of those who can use this military technique to fall asleep in two minutes?
All of us have experienced it, or at least, those of us who experience high levels of anxiety have. As we lay in bed, exhausted beyond belief, our minds raced, making it impossible for us to go asleep. We reached for the sinister blue lights on our phones, thinking to ourselves, “If only there was a way to fall asleep instantly?”
It turns out that there is, albeit given who I am, I’ll probably be in the unfortunate four percent for which it doesn’t work. Nevertheless, perhaps there is still hope for you.
Though science hasn’t yet developed a “on-off” switch for our brains, there is a military sleep technique that may be the next best thing.
Fitness instructor Justin Agustin used his platform to spread the word about this technique, which he claims works for an astounding 96 percent of individuals and can even put you to sleep in under two minutes.
How then does it operate?
The US Army, it seems, created the method primarily for “fighter pilots who need 100% of their reflexes” and for combatants who must be able to nod off in noisy, demanding environments.
You will go to sleep in a matter of minutes if you settle in and pay attention to your breathing.
Once you’ve mastered that area, you may begin to’shut it down’ by gradually relaxing your entire body, beginning with your forehead and facial features.
Make every effort to ensure that nothing is tight and that your arms are relaxed by your sides.
Feel the warmth rising from your head to your fingertips. Then, relax your chest by taking a deep breath; then, relax your thigh, stomach, legs, and feet.
You must visualize the warm feeling traveling from your heart to your toes.
Finally, the difficult portion.
Ideally, you should be free of any tension in order to aid in your own sleep.
Picture yourself in a cozy spot, such as curled up in a velvet hammock or relaxing on a heated boat on a serene lake.
For 10 seconds, tell yourself to “don’t think” if you are experiencing intrusive thoughts about the time you told a waiter to enjoy your dinner and you feel like you’re thinking about something else.
Hopefully, you will be able to fall asleep after this.
Though Agustin’s video may seem too wonderful to be true, comments on it show that there is some validity to the approach.
“I’m a military brat and was taught this,” one commenter said. This was also taught by a seasoned psychology professor I had in college. It is undoubtedly effective.”
Another said: “Pretty sure this is closer to what is called Progressive Muscle Relaxation which was developed by an American physician in 1908.”
And that’s it – pleasant dreams!
Arrogant Neighbor Fills In My Pond – My Clever Retaliation Teaches Him Not to Underestimate an Elderly Lady
The grandchildren adore frolicking in it, and sometimes I jest they might favor the pond over me!
All was serene until Brian became my neighbor five years ago. Right from the start, he was troubled by my pond.
“Margaret!” he’d shout from beyond the fence. “Those frogs disrupt my sleep! Can’t you quiet them down?”
With a grin, I’d respond, “Oh, Brian, they’re merely serenading you. No charge at all!”
He continued to grumble. “What about the mosquitoes? Your pond is a breeding ground!”
“Now, Brian,” I’d retort, “my pond is spotless. Perhaps those mosquitoes are from the clutter in your own yard.”
He’d storm off, and I assumed he’d adjust over time. However, I misjudged.
One day, I took a short trip to visit my sister, expecting nothing more than leisurely chats and card games. I returned to a shocking sight that chilled me to the core.
Arriving home, the familiar glint of water was missing, replaced by soil. Heart plummeting, I rushed from my car.
My neighbor, kindly Mrs. Johnson, approached hastily. “Margaret! Thank goodness you’re here. I tried to halt them, but they claimed to have authorization!”
“Stop whom? What authorization?” I stammered, fixated on the muddy remnant of my once-beloved pond.
“A team arrived yesterday, tasked by a company to drain and fill your pond,” Mrs. Johnson explained. “I protested that you were away, yet they presented official documents!”
Feeling betrayed, I realized twenty years of cherished memories had vanished overnight. I knew who was responsible.
“Brian,” I clenched my fists, seething.
“What will you do?” Mrs. Johnson inquired, her expression laden with concern.
I straightened up. “Well, I’ll show him why you shouldn’t trifle with a woman like Margaret!”
Firstly, I contacted my family. My daughter Lisa was incensed. “Mom, this is unlawful! We should inform the authorities!”
“Just wait, dear,” I counseled.
“Let’s gather evidence first.”
Then, my perceptive granddaughter Jessie reminded, “Grandma! What about the wildlife camera in the oak tree? It might have recorded something!”
Indeed, that camera captured our ace in the hole.
The footage unmistakably showed Brian, directing the team to destroy my pond. He seemed pleased with his stealthy mischief.
“Caught you,” I smirked.
Brian presumed I would overlook his actions due to my age and solitude. He underestimated my resourcefulness.
I immediately phoned the local wildlife conservation office.
“Good day,” I began politely. “I need to report the ruin of a protected natural area.”
The agent sounded puzzled. “Protected area, ma’am?”
“Absolutely,” I continued. “My pond hosted an endangered fish species, registered with your office years ago. And it’s been filled in without any lawful clearance.”
The conservation office doesn’t take such matters lightly.
Shortly, they were at Brian’s doorstep, imposing a hefty fine that surely made him wince.
“Gentlemen, we’re here concerning the illegal obliteration of a protected site on your neighbor’s land,” they informed Brian.
Brian blanched. “What? Protected site? It was merely a pond!”
“A pond that housed a recognized endangered fish species, Mr. Thompson. You authorized its destruction without proper consent.”
“This is absurd!” Brian protested. “That old pond was an eyesore! I was cleaning up the neighborhood!”
“Unfortunately, that ‘cleanup’ has resulted in a $50,000 penalty for breaching environmental laws,” they countered.
Brian was aghast. “$50,000? You must be joking! That pond was—”
I savored his dismay from afar, but my plans were not yet complete.
I called my grandson Ethan, a sharp attorney in the city.
“Ethan, dear,” I said. “How about assisting your grandmother in dealing with a neighborhood tyrant?”
Eager to aid, Ethan swiftly served Brian with legal papers for property damage and emotional harm.
While I could have stopped there, one more move remained.
Brian’s wife Karen, who always seemed reasonable, returned from work one evening, and I seized the opportunity for a candid talk.
“Evening, Karen,” I greeted her. “Can we chat for a moment?”
She nodded, weary yet accommodating. “Of course, Margaret. What’s troubling you?”
Over tea, I unveiled the entire saga about the pond – its origins, the joyful memories, and the wildlife it supported.
Karen’s expression shifted from bewilderment to shock. “Margaret, I was unaware,” she exclaimed. “Brian claimed the city mandated the pond’s closure for safety!”
“Well,” I reassured her, patting her hand. “Now you understand the full story.”
Subsequently, the neighborhood was abuzz, and Brian vanished for a while after Karen confronted him about his deceit.
One morning, the buzz of machinery woke me. Peering outside, I was astonished to see a team working in my yard under Karen’s supervision.
“Morning, Margaret. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought it was time to rectify things,” Karen greeted me as the crew worked to restore my pond.
Karen confided about Brian’s other questionable dealings. “This was just him venting his frustrations,” she shared softly.
With the pond reinstated, the environmental charges were withdrawn. Ethan persuaded me to drop the lawsuit as well, always the diplomat.
As for Brian, he disappeared out of state, humbled and defeated. Karen, now a frequent visitor, helped me care for the revived pond, grateful for the chance to make amends.
One serene evening by the restored waters, Karen mused, “Margaret, I never imagined I’d appreciate Brian’s mistake.”
Curious, I asked, “Why is that?”
She grinned, clinking our iced tea glasses. “If he hadn’t interfered, I might never have discovered such an incredible neighbor.”
Here I am, 74 and invigorated, with a rejuvenated pond, a new ally, and a tale for future family gatherings. Life always surprises, doesn’t it?
And if there’s a moral here, it’s never to underestimate a grandmother with a resolve and a competent attorney!
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