Pause

 As I was running the other morning, I was feeling the rush of the week, struggling to get everything finished that needed my attention.  I really did not have time for this run, but I needed it.  Sometimes these miles are the only thing that keeps me moving through the days that get hard, but nonetheless, I was feeling guilty for taking up time in a day for myself that I really didn’t have.  I laughed in my head at what I had just thought. “This is my day, no one else’s.  Why am I feeling guilty for taking up time and space in my own day?”  I cut my run a little shorter than planned and ran home anyway to see my son off to school.

 

Later that day I went to yoga.  I had recently realized, if I want to keep running,  that my joints and muscles need yoga like my heart and soul need running,  only to soon discover that my heart and soul also need yoga.  I often think how ironic it is that my soul craves both the movement and the stillness.  Two very opposite dynamics, but somehow, both working together to create more balance in my heart. 

 

That day the instructor spoke about pause.  “We will be pausing longer in poses today.  The pause will be uncomfortable but know it is building strength and power.”  I surprised myself how well I handled the “pause” throughout the class.  I focused on the pause building strength most of the week.  When do I really pause?  I’m not sure that I am even comfortable pausing.  The pause is uncomfortable and challenging for me on the mat and in life. I fill my life with work and obligations, rarely a free minute in the day, to avoid the pause, keeping myself as busy as possible.

 

Running the next morning, I was still thinking about the concept of pause the instructor had mentioned.  When I run in the mornings I see some of the most beautiful colors the eye can see and some of the most beautiful sunrises.  I just glance as I run by, soaking up as much of the navy sky turning pink and orange in front of me. I have things to do and no time to pause.  There is one particular, unpresuming spot on my run, where between the trees looking out, you can almost see the water of Long Island Sound in the distance below.  The sun rises here in a truly spectacular fashion.  In the mornings I will often notice deer just standing there watching, up to a dozen of them some mornings.  I decided to pause my run and join the few deer gathered there that morning. They didn’t move, just kept watching as if I belonged there too. I joined them on the crest of the hill, stepping around the snow.  I took some breaths and soaked in the majesty of this quiet space. It felt strange to stop moving but somehow, I found a way to just be still in the movement.  I stood there, paused until I could feel the cold temperatures urging me along to keep moving and finish my run home. 

 

There is a saying, “ If you’re going through hell, keep moving, don’t stop.”  Maybe for a while life felt like a hell I couldn’t stop or pause in.  I was afraid to pause and get stuck in hell, succumbing to anxiety and depression from losses and failures I couldn’t change. For a while, I think my sense of pausing was equated to giving up. Maybe being able to pause now is the evidence that I made it through that hell and left it behind me.  Maybe I was never really there maybe by never pausing I also never really noticed the good, the safety, the joy of the utopia I was living in too or the fact that I never really lost my power, I just I had to slow down long enough to know it was still there.

 

As stillness and I continue to become acquainted, I still feel that the balance and practice of moving and stillness is essential to my soul, each complimenting the other and bringing new awareness to life. The next day I paused on my run again on a different route down at the beach breathing in the slightly warmer morning, the smell of the salt in the air, and the sun.  

 

I began running again and thought, “Can I do this more?  Can I make myself pause and welcome the joy in the moment without guilting myself to a lack of time?  Can I take up space and time on morning runs and in my own life to pause and fill my soul with the peace in the stillness it craves? Where else in my life can I pause instead of react and move?”   Maybe it is in the pause that all the chaos calms, and I will be able soak in the beauty, power, joy, and peace of my broken dysfunctional life just the way it is, instead of working so hard to change it all the time to mirror some image of what I thought it was supposed to be. Maybe in this pause and knowing I always am doing my best, I can begin to see that it might be better than what I imagined if I can learn to pause more and let it all be as it is, while continuing to find more  balance  in the doing and the pause.