Yasmin
27 September 2025
by Yasmin Shaheen-Zaffar | Watoto Play
Have you ever felt like your brain and body are just… full? Like one more thing – one more noise, one more demand, one more ping – might just tip you over the edge?
That, in a nutshell (or in this case, a sandwich), is what Dan Siegel calls the Window of Tolerance – the range in which we can function, connect, and feel safe enough to think clearly.
It’s a brilliant model, but one day during a Polyvagal Teen® workshop, someone used the phrase “Window of Capacity.” And in that instant, my brain – my ADHD, dyslexic, dyspraxic, autistic brain – saw a squashed sandwich.
And that’s how the metaphor was born:
The Sandwich of Capacity™.
Because for many of us – especially those of us who are neurodivergent – complex models can feel abstract. We need something we can see, feel, and maybe even laugh about to help it stick.
So, let’s break it down layer by layer.
Exploring the Window of Tolerance V The Window of Capacity
Instructions: Read the story below and answer the questions that follow.
“The Story of the Window of Tolerance and the Squashed Sandwich”
So, hey there! Today’s lesson at Noura Sloth Academy is a story about the window of tolerance and the squashed sandwich. For those who aren’t too sure about it, the window of tolerance is like a special zone that helps us feel just right. It was invented by a person called Dany Gal, who knows a lot about how our minds work. When we are in this zone, we can do our best at everything we do, like learning new things, having fun, and getting along with others.
It’s a happy place where we feel just the right amount of excited and focused, and it helps us do well in our everyday lives.
Now, although I think Dan is a really, really, really clever man, I prefer to use a different name instead of calling it the window of tolerance. I love to call it the window of capacity. So, why do I prefer to call it the window of capacity?
To me, the word “capacity” makes me think of something like a vessel or a cup or a jug, and that we all have a certain capacity for stress.
To me, the word “tolerance” makes it sound like we’re just putting up with life. You know, like we’ve got no choice. It’s something that has to be done.
While “capacity,” it kind of shows that we can do more and handle different situations. To me, capacity means we have the ability to grow, to learn, and deal with challenges instead of just tolerating them, just getting through them.
Even when we get full and spill over, we have the capacity to get back up and clean up the mess. Or sometimes we don’t have that capacity. And that’s okay too because sometimes things are just too much.
The best way I can explain our window capacity is if you think of a sandwich. You know, when you buy or make a fresh sandwich, the bread is bouncy, it’s springy. The filling is juicy, it’s fresh, it looks healthy and tasty. It looks like it’s full of life. Yum. Yum. You want to bite into it? Mm.
But then what happens? You put it in your bag for later. And you kind of forget about it, adding more stuff into your bag as you go about your day-to-day business. The list of important stuff keeps growing.
Your bag gets heavier and heavier, and your once fresh, juicy, springy, bouncy, full-of-life sandwich gets squashed to the bottom of your bag, pushed and prodded as the capacity in your bag gets less, as it gets fuller and fuller of all this stuff.
So, what does a squashed sandwich forgotten at the bottom of your bag have to do with anything, you might say? Well, just think of our capacity like that squashed sandwich at the bottom of your bag.
When we get stressed and we have lots of important things pushed and shoved on top of us, and we are prodded with stresses and worries, we become that soggy, sad, squashed sandwich, and our capacity to be nice and kind and patient reduces.
So, that’s the story of the window of tolerance, a.k.a., the capacity of tolerance, and the squashed sandwich. The end.
Just like a sandwich has a certain shape and size, your capacity – that mental and physiological space you have to cope with life – has its own limits and flexibility.
In psychological terms, your “sandwich” represents the range between being:
Hyperaroused: overwhelmed, agitated, anxious = too much energy (mobilised state)
Hypoaroused: shut down, numb, disconnected – too little energy (immobilised state)
In between those two is your window of capacity – the zone where your nervous system feels regulated and safe enough to engage, create, and connect.
Now, here’s where the metaphor gets tasty.
When life piles on – work, stress, social pressure, or sensory overload – it’s like pressing down on your sandwich. The ingredients start to squeeze out the sides.
That’s your capacity shrinking.
You’re still functioning, but it’s tighter, harder to breathe, harder to think clearly.
For neurodivergent people, this can happen faster because our sensory and emotional systems often take in more information, more intensely. So our “sandwich” can squash quicker – but it can also rebuild beautifully once pressure is released.
Some sandwiches are sturdy – sourdough, packed with protein. Others? A little floppy.
It depends on the ingredients.
Our nervous system is the same.
Factors like sleep, nutrition, connection, trauma history, and support all influence how flexible our capacity is.
Some days, your sandwich can hold all the fillings: work, kids, noise, creativity, joy.
Other days, it’s more of a plain toast situation – simple, minimal, and that’s perfectly okay.
Here’s the good news – just like bread, your capacity can bounce back.
When the stressor passes, or when we use regulation tools – breathwork, movement, rest, co-regulation = our nervous system naturally expands again.
You might feel your body soften, your breath deepen, your sense of humour return.
That’s your sandwich re-inflating = your capacity restoring itself.
Recovery is built into us. It’s not a flaw to be squashed; it’s human.
Finally, the filling – your unique blend of preferences, stressors, and needs.
Some of us are sensory-seeking, some sensory-sensitive.
Some thrive on social interaction; others need solitude to recharge.
Your filling – your individual recipe – determines what supports or shrinks your capacity.
And it’s okay if your sandwich doesn’t look like anyone else’s.
The Sandwich of Capacity isn’t just a metaphor – it’s a neuroaffirming lens for self-awareness.
It helps us:
Recognise when our nervous system is compressed.
Notice what supports our capacity (sleep, support, silence, movement).
Reduce shame around “struggling” days – because even a squashed sandwich still has value.
Psychoeducation doesn’t have to be complicated to be powerful.
When we make concepts visual, playful, and relatable, they stick.
And when they stick, they empower.
So next time you feel like you’re losing patience, focus, or energy –
pause for a second and ask yourself:
“Is my sandwich getting a bit squashed?”
If the answer’s yes – give it space, kindness, and rest. Learn To recognise what YOU need. Because your sandwich, just like you, it can bounce back with the right ingredients.
It can always rise again.
© Yasmin Shaheen-Zaffar | Watoto Play™
Psychoeducation made playful, memorable, and kind.
Reflection Questions:
Feel free to discuss these questions with young people to help them understand the concept of the window of capacity and its relevance to their own experiences.
Driven to improve the emotional wellbeing of young people, adults, and parents, Yasmin Shaheen-Zaffar is the founder and creator of Polyvagal Teen®. She also developed The R.U.D Process® – a practical, step-by-step approach that helps teens and adults recognise and manage stress and anxiety by becoming Polyvagal Aware.
In addition, Yasmin leads several social-impact initiatives that promote steady, consent-based communication and co-regulation:
Glad We Talked® programmes
Neurosloth® Academy
Talky Talk Cards
Scribbledeedo®
World Stop Shouting Day – a campaign to reduce conflict and aggression in everyday interactions
Alongside this work, Yasmin runs a small private counselling practice in North Yorkshire and online, specialising in emotional regulation and working with neurodivergent, multi-faith, and mixed-heritage clients.
