You ever try to respond to one email—just one—and in the time it takes to type “Hi Peter,” you’ve been pinged on Slack, remembered that you didn’t order the birthday cupcakes, and your kid is standing in front of you asking where their shin guards are… again?
Congratulations. You’re living in a storm of Time Confetti.
Brigid Schulte gave it the name, and honestly? I wish I’d thought of it first because it explains everything about why so many of my brilliant, successful, doing-the-most clients feel fried. You’ve got a calendar packed with “only 30-minute meetings,” a phone full of half-read texts, and a brain that’s playing 73 tabs of mental load all at once.
And you didn’t ask, but I’ll tell you that I HATE confetti. And glitter. Mostly when it’s in my house. But that’s for another day.
Anyways:
You’re not failing.
You’re fragmented.
Tiny, torn-up scraps of time flying at you from all directions—and not one of them big enough to do the kind of deep thinking, deep breathing, or deep connecting you actually want to be doing.
One of my clients (we’ll call her “A CEO Who Might’ve Cried in Her Closet Once”) came to me in full confetti-mode. She was leading a fast-scaling company, parenting two kiddos, managing a household, a team, a board… and somewhere in there, trying to find five seconds to herself that weren’t inside a bathroom.
She didn’t need a better planner. She needed her time—and her energy—to stop getting shredded into tiny bits.
So we started small. (I know. That’s annoying. But it works.)
We discovered where she was leaking energy. We got honest about what was urgent vs. what was just loud. We built in sacred, protected blocks where nobody could bother her—not the team, not the texts, not even the dog.
And guess what? She started feeling powerful again. Clear. Less like she was surviving her days, more like she was directing them. Even thriving in them!
Listen, if your schedule is airtight but your soul feels suffocated, you don’t need another productivity hack.
You need space. You need presence. You need to get out from under the confetti storm and back into your own damn power.
And yes—it’s possible.