I just scrolled through Instagram and between the spiritual memes and the pictures of amazing landscapes and awesome buildings, “my feed” was telling me to jump, to do it: take the trip, quit my job, go live in a van (I have a fascination with van life), get the yoga teacher training, ask someone to marry me, paint the walls dark gray (I also follow a lot of design sites), start the business, run the marathon, write the book, adopt the dog.
Weirdly, though, I have been thinking all day about pausing and reflecting. While taking action is good advice, sometimes, pausing and waiting is important, too.
It takes time to pay off a debt, to get into school, to change jobs, to convert a van into a living space, to paint the walls, to train for a marathon, to write a book, to find and build a strong relationship, to take yoga seriously, to figure out the business, to find the dog, or to do whatever the thing is.
The pause can be the hunkering down to do the work, the gestation period. Seeds, even when planted, take time to grow. The pause can be the time to figure out plan B or plan F. The pause can be the time to recalibrate. The pause can be the time to really think about what you want or rethink about what you want. The pause can be the resting time when you don’t feel you have direction. The pause can be part of a day, a weekend, a season. The pause might be a pause on some level, while other parts of life are in full throttle.
Pausing can be just as brave as jumping. The thing, I think, for me, that’s important is to make sure that the pause does not become permanent. I spent a good chunk of adulthood pausing, without really figuring out why I was waiting.
I need a bit of quiet and reflection. There is snow falling outside my window and the usual background highway white noise seems quiet, even the hum of the fridge is quiet.
I will pause. I will take a little time with intention. And then, when I am not quite ready, I will jump in again.