Programming the Pause

Before we even begin, stop for a moment, take two breaths and simply notice your breath, what are you noticing in this moment, how does your body feel, what are you experiencing through each of your senses - taste, touch, sight, smell, sound? 

 

Perfect! 

 

No need to analyze what you experienced. 

This is a powerful game of simply noticing, of pausing. 

And, it has an incredible cumulative effect. 

Now, I invite you to find one thing that you do on a regular basis throughout your day. It can be anything:  picking up your phone, getting in and out of the car, going to the restroom, touching a particular door knob, picking up your child…  The cue is purely that, a reminder over and over again through your day to pause, for just a moment, to take two breaths, to notice. The noticing needs no judgement, no critique. You don’t have to do anything about what you notice. You are simply invited to pause. 

It’s that simple. By having a regular reminder, a constant cue to pause, no matter what your mood, no matter your energy; you simply take notice, and bring mindful awareness to the moment. Breathing consciously through the nose sends a signal through the nervous system that you are not in danger. Whether things are calm, intense, playful, enjoyable, or stressful in the moment you pause, the effects are the same. We are giving the invitation and the permission to be present with ourselves and our world for a moment; one more moment than perhaps we were before we started this practice. And, the moments build upon moments, and the practice bears fruit. 

Noticing our own bodies, our sensations, our emotions, our mental play, brings us into an awareness of ourselves. We may notice we have a physical need like water, or food, or to rest, or to dance, or to play.  

Noticing what our senses are experiencing brings us into an awareness of our world. It is through our senses that life fills us with delight, joy, pleasure and nourishment. We might notice that the sensation of the sun’s warmth on our skin, the way the light dances off the wings of the bird that just landed on the chair outside the coffee shop, the smells of a flower in full bloom or food cooking on the stove. 

Noticing how our senses are fed each moment of the day allows for endorphin release, cultivates a sense of belonging and connection in our own skin, and in our world, and brings us into a deep awareness of what is going on around us; which may allow for skillful action and response.  

This is the deeper work of the pause. So much of the time, we operate in a reactive mode. Our default modes play out over and over again. These default patterns were often formed at one time to protect us, but they may be outdated. They may no longer serve, and they may not be appropriate for the situation that is currently before us. This default may be a particular running self-dialogue, a physical response to a stimulus, a tendency to escape. By pausing and programming the pause so that it becomes, more and more, a default response, we have the opportunity to respond, not simply react. We have the opportunity to experience life, to notice our own sensations, and needs, to take in what is occurring around us, and to form a more skillful response or action.  

Our brains and bodies are made for this! We have the capacity to take in enormous amounts of information, to sort, to filter and to concentrate this information and then take action. We do it without noticing much of the time. When we first learn to drive, we are paying hyper-focused attention to each detail and things are not immediately fluid as we train ourselves to use the clutch and the gas petal, shift gears, pay attention to oncoming traffic, feel the car’s momentum, know where its edges are in space, know how hard to press the brakes to bring us to a stop in the amount of time needed. When we are first learning, paying attention to every detail actually gives us less capacity to notice anything else. We may not be able to carry on a conversation, or listen to music while also figuring out which gear to be in and remembering to turn on our lights. We need to learn to drive on quiet streets or wide open parking lots or backcountry gravel roads before we attempt the skills in higher stimulus situations. And, a great driving teacher will often remind us to breathe, to pause, and to relax our body, and then to try a new skill again in a calmer state, because it is in this state that we can more efficiently perceive, process and respond. Then, before we realize it, we are driving, taking in all of this information and moving through the necessary motions with relative ease. We are taking in all of the information related to driving and have the capacity for even more, allowing for greater fluidity and the ability to assess situations and respond with skillful maneuvering.  

Now, imagine all of the default things you do every day, some of them incredibly useful such as driving with ease, some of them less useful, perhaps even patterns we would like to change. By telling ourselves they are wrong, by being critical, by demanding a new pattern, we often feel discouraged. Long-term change does not seem possible. But, by breaking up the default patterns with a simple pause, over and over again, by noticing our own needs, our emotions, our physical sensations, but taking in the nourishing life force given to us every moment through our senses, we have the opportunity to shift the nervous system response, to widen our perspective, to see a broader array of options, and to consciously and skillfully respond. And then to try it all over again. Because life is fluid. Life is dynamic. And, there is so much joy and possibility, wonder and joy in being able to sense and experience this magic, and participate in life in our individual, beautiful, unique expressions.

Programming the pause is an invitation to be present, aware, and to allow for the infinite creativity of life to play through each of us. It is an invitation to life.  

So, take another breath, notice, and then I invite you find your cue and play with the pause. 

 

 

 

 

 

Dustin Towery