The Garage Pause: 5 Breathing Exercises I Do Before Walking In The Front Door To Meet My Daughter

8:45 PM

The engine is off. The garage door is closed. The world outside is silent, but my mind is still racing at 80 kilometres per hour.

Inside my head:

I am still replying to that 4:30 PM email…
I am calculating Q3 revenue projections…
I am replaying a tense conversation with an employee…

I am physically sitting in my driveway in Calcutta, but mentally, I am still at the office, drowning in what I call ‘Provider Panic’. A gnawing anxiety that if I stop swimming, the financial security of my family sinks.

But inside the house, just twenty feet away, is my 18-month-old daughter. She doesn’t care about revenue. She doesn’t care about my boss. She just knows that ‘Papa’ is home.

If I walk through that door right now, I will bring the toxic energy of my workday into her sanctuary. I’ll be physically present, but emotionally hollow. I check my phone while she tries to show me her Lego blocks.

So, I don’t go in. Not yet.

If you have been a dad who wants to ensure that your son or daughter gets the real ‘dad experience’ the moment you walk through the door, read through and thank me later. 

Am I a Bad Father because of this ritual?

For the last six months, I’ve established a non-negotiable ritual. I stay in the car for 10 minutes. This isn’t ‘hiding’ from my family; it is preparing for them. It is the airlock between the vacuum of work and the atmosphere of home.

A lot of people, friends, and work colleagues that I have shared this with have had a mixed response to my routine. Some have appreciated, while others have gotten the impression that I am not too keen on meeting my family after a long and hard day at work. 

This is not me running away from my family. Not the least bit. This is me trying to unwire myself so that I step into the ‘dad role’ and keep my Chief Operating Officer bit outside. 

Let me tell you a bit about myself. I am incredibly jealous of people who can switch on and off depending on the situation. I have seen senior managers and even C-suite executives head to the pub after a dismal quarterly review where everything is in red. 

I cannot for the love of God; switch on and off. I carry my professional baggage, good or bad, wherever I go. The flipside- it affects and influences my mood levels whenever I am with my family. 

If you have a nature like I do, maybe you will be successful if your wife understands you. Mine did. But to expect an eighteen-month-old to understand why her papa is upset and sulking because a client withheld payment is too much to ask.

Love it or hate it, this is something that has helped me keep my sanity, avoid a negative environment at work, and ensure that I am present in the actual sense of the term for my daughter. 

The Brain Chemistry of an Overworked Dad: Cortisol vs. Oxytocin

If you want a bit of context for this article, you should read my last article on Provider Panic. 

To survive in my job, which involves chasing leads, hitting deadlines, and managing cash flow, my body runs on cortisol and adrenaline. These are the ‘fight or flight’ hormones. They are useful for closing deals, but they are toxic for connecting with an 18-month-old.

My daughter doesn’t operate on cortisol. She operates on oxytocin, which is the hormone of bonding, safety, and play.

If I walk in the door dripping in cortisol, she feels it. Toddlers are emotional Geiger counters. She might not know what a ‘Q3 Projection’ is, but she knows that Daddy feels ‘sharp’ and ‘fast.’ This usually leads to her acting out, which spikes my stress, which leads to me snapping at her. Something that your wife will never appreciate. 

The 10 minutes in the garage are my biological recalibration. It is the time required for my heart rate to drop and my cortisol to ebb so that I can generate enough oxytocin to actually enjoy building a tower of Lego blocks. I am not just ‘breathing’; I am changing my body chemistry.

Breathe, Breathe, Breathe…

Confession alert- Whatever you are about to read is not something that I discovered on my own. I might be smart, but sometimes, you need to learn from the best. In this specific instance, the best is a person known by the name of Dr. Adam Fraser. His contribution to my life? Shedding light on something known as the ‘Third Space’.

Performance psychologist Dr. Adam Fraser describes the Third Space as the transitional gap between what you just did (The First Space: Work) and what you’re about to do (The Second Space: Fatherhood).

For most of us, the commute used to be that space. But in a world of hands-free calls, Zoom meetings taken from the driver’s seat, and anxiety about revenue targets, the car has just become an extension of the office. The First Space has bled into the commute.

My garage is no longer just a place to park a car; it is a decompression chamber. If I don’t depressurize, I explode. The exercises I do here aren’t about laziness; they are about deciding who I want to be when I walk inside. Without this pause, I am a reactive victim of my day. With it, I am an intentional architect of my evening

Here are the 5 specific breathing exercises I use in that garage airlock to shed the Provider armour and put on the dad vulnerability.

1. The ‘Steering Wheel’ Grounding (Tactile Focus)

Best for: When your mind is spinning with ‘What-Ifs’ about money.

I found that when I’m anxious about work, I’m literally ‘up in my head.’ I need to get back into my body before I can hug my daughter.

• The Move: I grip the steering wheel firmly with both hands at 10 and 2.
• The Breath: I inhale deeply for 4 counts, squeezing the wheel as hard as I can, channelling all that frustration into my hands.
• The Release: I exhale for 8 counts, completely opening my hands and letting them rest limp on my lap.
• Why it works: The physical contraction and release signals to my nervous system that the ‘fight’ is over. I do this 3 times.

2. The Rearview Mirror Release

Best for: Leaving a bad day behind you—literally.

This is a visualization technique I layer with breathing. I look into the rearview mirror and make eye contact with myself.

• The Move: I stare at my reflection—the tired eyes, the furrowed brow.
• The Breath: As I inhale, I acknowledge the stress: ‘I am worried about that deadline.’
• The Release: As I exhale long and slow, I visualize that specific worry floating into the back seat, and then out the rear window.
• The Mantra: ‘That belongs to the office. It does not belong to her.’

3. The ‘4-7-8’ Brake Pedal

Best for: When you feel physically jittery or caffeinated.

My job involves high-pressure sales, which means my cortisol is often spiking right when I need to be calm for bedtime duties. This technique is a physiological brake’ for the heart rate. 

Doesn’t help when you work in a time zone where your clients are getting to work, when you are going off to bed. The bad at 11.30 PM- ‘Hi Ejaz, we will be holding payments, till this is resolved’. 

• The Move: I close my eyes and rest my foot heavily on the floor (where the brake would be).
• The Breath: Inhale through the nose for 4 seconds. Hold the breath for 7 seconds. Exhale forcefully through the mouth (making a whoosh sound) for 8 seconds.
• Why it works: The long exhale forces the parasympathetic nervous system (the “rest and digest” mode) to kick in. It effectively turns off the “work engine.”

4. The ‘Box Breathing Boundary

Best for: Re-focusing your attention span.

My 18-month-old requires intense focus and energy. Tough when you are working ten-hour days and travelling back and forth for two hours. If I am distracted, she knows. Box breathing helps me sharpen my focus away from spreadsheets and onto storybooks.

• The Move: I trace the shape of the radio display or the dashboard with my eyes.
• The Breath:
  • Inhale for 4 counts (trace the top of the box).
  • Hold for 4 counts (trace the right side).
  • Exhale for 4 counts (trace the bottom).
  • Hold empty for 4 counts (trace the left side).
• The Result: After four rounds, my brain feels ‘rebooted, like a browser with all the tabs finally closed.

5. The Door Handle Intention

Best for: The final commitment.

This is the last thing I do before I pull the lever to open the car door.

• The Move: I put my hand on the door handle, but I don’t pull yet.
• The Breath: One normal, deep breath.
• The Question: I ask myself, ‘Who is the man walking through this door?’
• The Answer: I answer silently: A present, loving father.’
• The Action: Then, and only then, do I pull the handle.

The 10-Minute Investment

Some days, sitting in the garage feels like wasted time. I feel the guilt that I should be inside helping my wife right now. But I remind myself: My wife and daughter deserve the best version of me, not the leftover scraps of a stressed-out employee.

Spending 10 minutes in the car to ensure I’m present for the next 3 hours is the best ROI I’ll get all day.

The Wife Perception: Are you crazy or are you trying really hard?

If you are doing this before telling your wife, big mistake! You need to be completely transparent with her and tell her. 

I have to include a disclaimer here: Do not start doing this without telling your partner.

If my wife sees my car pull in, and then 10 minutes pass without the door opening, her assumption isn’t ‘Oh, he’s practicing mindfulness.’ Her assumption is, ‘He’s scrolling Instagram,’ ‘He’s hiding from chores,’ or ‘He doesn’t want to see us.’

They are perfectly right in thinking or assuming any one of these negative thoughts. Understand that this is not something that a lot of people do. It’s easier to snap at your family after a hard day of work or just be completely absent altogether. 

I had to have a vulnerable conversation to buy this time. It went something like this:

‘Listen, I’ve been feeling like I’m bringing my work stress home, and I’m snapping at you and the baby. I hate that version of myself. I need your permission to take 10 minutes in the driveway to breathe and reset before I come in. If I do that, I promise I will be 100% present from the moment I walk through the door.’

Her reaction? Long pause, awkward silence, weird smirk (is he going crazy), verifying I am serious, accepting, and then- fine, do whatever helps you…

Now, she knows the drill. When the car stops, the timer starts. She respects the ‘Garage Pause’ because she sees the result: a husband who walks in ready to engage, rather than a husband who walks in looking for an escape.

The Doable Versus the Impossible

Am I able to do this six days a week? 
The straight answer is no. 
To be completely honest, my best has been four days a week. 
Has that helped? 
Yes, a lot.

As dads, we often forget that we, too, can fail (no matter how much we tell ourselves, failure is not an option). You are human, and you are going to screw up, and no one will save you. 

However, there are some things that a lot of experts recommend, but honestly, I can’t abide by them. 

Maybe it’s not in my nature, maybe I am too wired in my work, maybe my business demands that I cannot, or rather should not, do it. 

What are these things? 

‘Digital Detox’ after coming home from work. 

I know a lot of people in my circle, and in self-help YouTube videos speak about shutting off your work phone after you are home. No emails after 8 or 9 PM. No client calls post-work. 

I can’t do that. I have to check my phone for escalation emails, I have to take client calls after 10, and I have to ask for that invoice to be edited at 11 PM. 

No one expects you to be a Zen master. In fact, the harder you try to be perfect, the more likely you are to fail. 

You Will Fail, and Breathing Won’t Work.

There are days when the breathing doesn’t work. There are days when I lose the big client, get stuck in traffic for two hours, and the breathing exercises feel stupid and pointless. I walk in the door, and I am still grumpy.

On those days, I use the ‘verbal label’ technique with my daughter (even though she’s only 18 months) and my wife.

I say: ‘Papa had a hard day. My battery is low. I need a hug.’

Naming the emotion is a form of mindfulness, too. It teaches my daughter that it’s okay to be frustrated, and it manages my wife’s expectations. Perfection isn’t the goal; presence is. And sometimes presence just means admitting, I am here, but I’m struggling.

Does anyone else out there feel this way? Let’s get some engagement going on in the comments section by helping fathers. 

Additional Reading:

• How To Be A Good Father? Tips For Fatherhood
• The Key To Become The Best Step Parent: Do’s And Don’ts
• How To Improve Parenting Skills? Best Advice By Expert In 2026