Finding Pauses
When we make time to stop and smell the proverbial roses, you can save yourself time, mental anguish and, in my case, a lot of arguments.
Have you ever been in the middle of doing something when something clicks and you just stop? Maybe you take a deep breath. Maybe you roll your shoulders or relax your jaw. Maybe you actually smell the air around you.
Why don’t we stop more? Our culture constantly shouts at us to do more, say more, eat more, be more and to simply stop feels counterproductive to this narrative that’s drilled into us. To stop means to not do, not say, not eat, not be anything beyond what you are in that exact moment. A pause is a hiccup in the flow of your routine and how dare we interrupt our busyness? Our busyness is a sign of our competence. The more we do, the more others shower us in accolades. The cleaner the house, the more compliments. The stronger the body, the more praise. The more events we attend, the more awe. It’s a constant juggling act of absolute meaningless bullshit. Yeah, I went there. I said it. The ‘go go go’ life is absolutely unsustainable and completely unhealthy.
We need more pauses. We need more moments of reflection and solitude. We need more moments to just be.
A pause is severely underrated. Think of music: without pauses between notes, it would just be sounds mushed together into an unpleasant cacophony. Pauses on the TV allow for bathroom breaks and snack runs. Pauses in writing in the form of a period prevent run on sentences and gives the reader's eyes a break. A pause in a game via a whistle or break gives athletes the chance to catch their breath or re-strategize. Pauses are so important. How often do you pause?
Personally, with four kids, I need pauses. A lot of them. Sign me up for all the pauses. We all know by now that my temper can be ugly and when its building, I can feel it coming fast like a freight train on a straightaway. It feels heavy and uncontrolled; a rage that’s found the path of least resistance and is coming out of my chest within seconds. My body shakes. My eyesight hazes. My face warms. It’s in that moment, of feeling my cheeks heat, that I know I need to pause. I typically only have this level of temper with the people closest to me and especially my husband, so I say to him, “I need five minutes” and I walk away. This used to drive him crazy. He always felt like I was leaving the conversation because I was being ignorant and childish. He would respond, exasperated: “the world doesn’t stop for five minutes, Kels!’
There are times when I can’t find the pause. I am furious, the rage has taken over and I am saying the same things over and over, only louder and louder each time. Logic and reasoning has taken a backseat and my anger is driving like it’s a Formula 1 race; with adrenaline fuelled intensity and speed towards my righteousness.
When was the last time you purposely slowed down? Took time to feel your body? Took a few deep breaths? Unclenched your jaw? Played hookey from your day? Explored your surroundings? When was the last time you simply enjoyed a day for the simple enjoyment of enjoying the day?!
But I’ve been working on it. Over and over, I catch myself either before or during and I will say, “wait, we aren’t getting anywhere. I need five.” Clay now understands if we are to continue, we will never find a resolution. He takes his own five now too.
The pause is my peace. It’s where my clarity lives. It’s where my compassion resides. It’s where I meet myself on my deepest level and have the hard internal dialogues with my shadow side. When I pause, I have a conversation with my anger: “what exactly am I angry about right now? Is this logical? Does anything he/she say make sense? Can I relate to his/her point of view at all? Can I change my response to one of support/understanding/empathy?”
These are hard questions to ask. When I’m angry, I want to be right. I want the person I’m arguing with to see my point of view and acquiesce to it. I’m right, dang nab it!
Many years ago, while deep in the throes of anxiety and subsequent therapy, my counsellor said to me, “do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?” Like a punch to the chest, I actually lost my breath. Someone had called out my biggest flaw. I looked at him and thought, “He knows. He knows I’m a horrible person with this horrible temper that’s going to cost me my marriage. He knows.”
“Arguing isn’t communication. It’s noise.” -Tony Gaskins, motivational speaker
But I didn’t think it. I actually said it aloud. And he responded, “You’re not a horrible person, Kelsey but next time you feel that anger rising, if you can get to the pause, ask yourself: “do I want to be happy or do I want to be right?”
Those 13 little words changed my life. A bold statement, I know but true nonetheless. I felt my dormant rage kick a little behind its cage of my ribs and I knew something was shifting. It was an aha moment. It was a lesson I will never forget. So next time your anger is rearing and you’re wanting to make someone see your point of view or adopt your mentality (especially in these divisive times), ask yourself the same thing. Happy or right? Right or happy? Feed your ego or your soul? I promise you, feeding your soul will always be the better gamble.
Those moments of pausing to ask yourself this will pay off in leaps and bounds. Like the saying goes, “arguing with a fool only proves that there are two” so choose your arguments wisely. Better yet, before anything escalates to an argument, take the damn pause. Stop. Walk away. Yell into a pillow. Watch a funny video (my personal favourite.) Take a bath. Go outside. Call a trusted, more-reasonable-than-you-friend (my second favourite option.) Do a yoga pose. Smoke a joint if that’s your jam. Pet a puppy. Pause. Pause. Pause.