You cannot think your way out of a physiological hijack. This is the sentence that changed how I lead, how I parent, and how I fight my own worst impulses. For years I believed that self-control was a mental discipline, that if I just had stronger convictions or better theology or more willpower, I could reason my way past temptation. I was wrong. When adrenaline floods your system, when your heart rate spikes, when your body goes into fight-or-flight mode, you are not operating in the realm of logic anymore. You are operating in the realm of chemistry. And chemistry does not respond to arguments. It responds to interruption.

Yesterday we talked about the first thirty seconds, the critical window when arrest is still possible. Today we get even more practical. Because recognizing the window does not help if you do not know what to do when you are standing in it. Here is what you do: you move. You physically disrupt the momentum before it becomes unstoppable. This is not metaphorical. This is not “create mental space” or “take a deep breath and center yourself.” This is close the laptop lid. Remove your hands from the keyboard. Stand up and walk out of the room. Splash cold water on your face. Do ten push-ups. Bite your tongue if you have to. Your body is flooded with chemicals screaming at you to act right now, and the only way to interrupt that signal is to give your body something else to do.

When I feel the heat rising in a meeting, when someone says something that makes my blood pressure spike, I have learned to do something that looks strange but works every time. I stop talking mid-sentence if I have to, and I physically remove my hands from the table. I put them in my lap or behind my back. It sounds absurd, but it works because my body knows that I cannot verbally attack someone if my hands are not engaged. The posture of my body signals to my brain that this is not a fight. The simple act of moving my hands interrupts the adrenaline loop long enough for my prefrontal cortex to come back online. That is not psychology; that is physiology. You cannot override your nervous system with better thoughts. You have to physically reset it.

Here are six techniques that work because they are physical, not philosophical. First, hands off the device. You cannot send the email or the text if you are not touching the phone or keyboard. Second, close the laptop. Do not minimize the window; snap the lid shut. The sound of it closing is a gavel hitting the desk. Third, say “STOP” out loud. It sounds ridiculous, but speaking engages a different part of your brain and breaks the internal loop of rationalization. Fourth, toss your phone across the room. Do not set it down gently; create immediate physical distance. Fifth, do something that resets your physiology. Splash cold water on your face. Do push-ups. Step outside into sunlight. Your body is in fight-or-flight mode; give it a physical task that is not sinful. Sixth, leave the room. If you are in a meeting and you feel yourself about to explode, excuse yourself and go to the restroom. Walk the hallway. Let the adrenaline drain before you go back in. None of these techniques require deep spiritual maturity or years of therapy. They just require you to move your body before your body moves you toward destruction.

The mistake most leaders make is treating self-governance like a debate club. We think if we can articulate why something is wrong, we will stop doing it. But when your chest is tight, your face is hot, and your fingers are flying across the keyboard, you are not in a debate. You are in a hijacking. Your body has taken the wheel, and it is not giving it back just because you present a compelling argument. The only way to regain control is to physically interrupt the hijacking. Step away. Move. Disrupt. Tomorrow we will talk about recognizing the trigger moment in real time, about learning to feel the heat rising before it boils over. But today, commit to this: the next time you feel the spiral starting, do not try to think your way out. Move. Hands off the keyboard. Close the laptop. Walk away. Let the chemistry drain. Then, when you are calm, when your prefrontal cortex is back online, decide what to do. The spiral cannot survive physical disruption. So disrupt it.

I write about leadership at the intersection of timeless principles and modern workplaces. Follow for weekly insights on building teams that actually work. For more articles like this consider subscribing to my Substack at: https://christianleadership.now