It was 8:37am and I was scrolling Instagram with one eye squinting, the other sealed shut in protest. The morning light was harsh; the algorithm harsher. Somewhere between a video of a dog doing taxes and a girl making her matcha, I stumbled upon Mel Robbins, motivational speaker and Ted Talk legend, telling me to high-five myself.

The video had pandemic energy. That quiet, echoey desperation of someone who’s spent too long indoors talking to objects. Mel explained that in her darkest days she looked at herself in the mirror and gave herself a high-five.

“You are your own cheerleader,” she said. “You’ve survived 100% of your worst days.” I lay there, blinking. It sounded stupid enough to work. Mel Robbins has a podcast, a bestselling book (The High 5 Habit) and a global tour. Hundreds of thousands of people apparently gather to high-five themselves into transcendence. There were studies cited, testimonials, people in the comments declaring it had changed their lives.

Of course people are high-fiving themselves in 2026. What else are we meant to do? We live in a world where eggs cost $12, affordable housing is a myth and governments fund moral decay. The self-help economy thrives because it offers a sense of agency; the illusion that if we just reframe, breathe, manifest, hydrate, optimise … we can out-think the chaos.

Mel’s high-five was a mirror-slap heard round the world. And for a brief moment, even my cynicism wanted to join in.

So I decided to invent my own method. Something equally absurd yet profoundly spiritual. A practice that could heal the modern soul.

Introducing: The Hiccup Method™!

At its core, it’s simple. The next time you hiccup, don’t curse it, don’t suppress it, observe it. A hiccup, after all, is a spasm of surrender. Your diaphragm reminding you that you’re a living, twitching miracle.

There are three ways to get rid of a hiccup:

1. Forget about it.

2. Get scared.

3. Hold your breath for seven seconds.

Each, it turns out, is a masterclass in mindfulness.

Forgetting about it? That’s the art of letting go. Manifestation’s secret twin. When you stop obsessing, reality finally has room to cooperate. It’s why your crush texts back the moment you give up, or the buffering video loads when you look away.

Getting scared? Exposure therapy in real time. Clarity through chaos. Fear, in its purest form, snaps us awake. It’s like Wim Hof meets a mild cardiac arrest. It’s why we watch horror movies or check our bank balance; to feel something.

And holding your breath? That’s meditation, baby. For seven seconds you become acutely aware of your body, the lungs, the ribs, the pulse in your neck, until you exhale. The best part? Those seven seconds after, when you wait, suspended, listening for the next hiccup you hope never comes.

Six … Seven … Eight … hic.

Damn. Gotta go again.

That’s presence. That’s enlightenment. That’s also mildly inconvenient if you’re in public. The Hiccup Method™ could revolutionise how we live.

There will, of course, be an app. You’ll grant friends permission to scare you at random times throughout the day, logging each fright like digital accountability buddies.

For a small subscription fee, you’ll gain access to Hiccup Hub™, where users post daily affirmations like: “Today I embraced fear and choked on my oat milk.” Premium members can upload hiccup recordings for waveform analysis and spiritual calibration by certified Hiccup Coaches.

We’ll host retreats in Byron Bay where participants hiccup in synchrony at sunset, releasing trauma through collective diaphragm spasms while chanting “The Future Is Spasmodic.”

We’ll sell ethically sourced breath-hold timers made from recycled meditation bells.

There will be TED Talks. There will be lawsuits. But most of all, there will be healing. And merch.

We’ll launch Hi-Cups™, hand-blown artisanal glassware designed to capture the unique vibrational frequency of your hiccups. Each Hi-Cup will come numbered, chakra-coded and lightly misted with eucalyptus tears.

The collected hiccups will be shipped to our Nimbin headquarters for Energetic Harvesting™, where sound healers and venture capitalists will work side-by-side to convert your hiccups into usable spiritual energy.

We’ll go viral, obviously. Goop will release a $220 “Hiccup Harmoniser” made from rose quartz. Apple will announce the iHic, tracking diaphragmatic mindfulness in real time. Breath influencers will sell “Trachea massages” for $499 a pop.

And just when society reaches peak absurdity, someone, copycats, will unveil the sequel: The Fart Method™. Nature’s original release. A system of radical surrender for the post-capitalist colon.

But at the centre of it all, beneath the branding, the buzzwords, the biodegradable breath-hold timers, will remain the purest truth of all:

You were never broken, you were just holding your breath. And now, finally, you can hiccup.

• Miski Omar is a speech pathologist, writer and director from Sydney