Richard Rudd, in his book The Art of Contemplation, talks about the power of pausing. He notes how pausing the mental noise that often runs incessantly in our heads and doing check-ins with ourselves can lend to powerful effects.
Within this thought, he talks about leaning into unexpected pauses, such as getting stopped at a red light or a train, getting sick or having a storm pass when you were supposed to be doing something outside.
Most of the time these things were seen as frustrations and inconveniences to me. I had never seen them as a gift to pause. And, this past week as everyone in my house has been hit with a head and chest cold, there were still moments of frustration and annoyance with being sick.
But, I also remembered Rudd’s advice and I leaned into this being a week of unexpected pausing. I slowed down and enjoyed my home more this week than I have in quite a while. For two days, we didn’t leave it, which hasn’t happened since I can remember. We played more slowly, we didn’t rush through any meals to get out the door and we meandered in the backyard. Our symptoms were still heightened, so not all of this lent itself to enjoyment. But it did lead to pausing.
Perhaps an easier time to lean into this idea of unexpected pausing would be the next time you hit a red light. Instead of getting annoyed, lean into this being an unexpected pause. Don’t reach for your phone. Don’t distract yourself. Instead, check in with yourself. How are you doing mentally? Emotionally? Physically? Make a non-judgemental note to each of these and, before you know it, the light will be green and you will be on your way again.
It may feel as though nothing monumental occurs during these pauses, but this attunement and checking in will compound and eventually lead to a greater sense of knowing yourself and a grounding in who you are, an awareness that will allow you more choice in how you act, feel and think.
For my faith, I’ve found leaning into these pauses has created a greater sense of companionship with Jesus. I may not use every pause as a direct act of prayer, but I believe this groundedness and distancing myself from constant distractions leads to more awareness of Jesus and the Holy Spirit than I have ever had. And often times, he’s there with me and in the world around me. There haven’t been immense revelations from these pauses necessarily, but the acknowledgment of Jesus being there grounds me, reminds me of his companionship and settles me in not being alone.
So, may you settle into the unexpected pauses that come your way this week. And instead of distracting yourself, may you lean into checking in with yourself and slowly start to notice the effects of becoming less consumed by distractions and more acquainted with yourself.
Warmly,
Kylie Larson, MA, LPC
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Find Kylie’s reading commendations by clicking here.
