The Power of the Pause

My yoga teacher mentions The Power of the Pause when she's trying to distract us while we're doing a long hold. She talks about using "effortless effort" when we're facing challenging situations.

Imagine the Power we could maintain when someone cuts us off in traffic, or when we're craving quiet time in the staff room and someone won’t stop gushing about their last vacation. How often each day would the Power of the Pause be helpful in your life?

Power of the Pause

Some time ago a friend of mine told me that he refuses to get angry. When we get angry, he said, we have in essence given our Power away. We have risen to the bait, we have abandoned our best self and allowed someone else to negatively affect us. Also, he slyly said, if you don't respond it makes them crazy!

If we insert that pause in our day, we have the opportunity to gain perspective. Are we taking this too personally? Do I really want to agree to one more commitment? Do I really want to kiss this guy?

Stepping into the Pause takes practise and skill. It will be more difficult in some situations and you will be able to ease into others. We can use the Power of the Pause when we’re waiting in line to be served. Or even instead of constantly checking our phones for a reply. We can give ourself the Power of the Pause when we are learning a new yoga pose, starting a new job or painting or running program. 

We can give ourselves some breathing room to Pause. Our life will likely cease to be a whirlwind of action and we will certainly gain traction towards our real goals.

How The Power of the Pause gets you there as you need to be.(Click to Tweet)

What would change if you inserted The Power of the Pause into your day? (Click to Tweet)

Pause and read this wonderful piece by Maria Shriver. It is long but it is worth stopping your day. http://mariashriver.com/blog/2012/05/power-of-the-pause-maria-shriver-commencement-address/

And for ideas on inserting The Power of the Pause into our day from The Huffington Post. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lisa-earle-mcleod/pause_b_4737333.html

Interlude

I’d peer out my bedroom window which overlooked the driveway, watching for the piano teacher. Sometimes, he’d sit in his car and I think he'd never ring the doorbell (those were my happiest days) or he tried the bell so unenthusiastically, that the sound was lost amidst my mother’s constant bustle in the kitchen.

I took piano lessons because I was bribed. I wanted a guitar actually, and my mother said that a guitar would be bought IF I’d taken piano lessons for 6 months. I was an obedient child and succumbed. I hated every moment of it, I knew from the get-go that I had no interest, even less natural ability and my practise was mechanical and plodding.

My mother however, thought I was quite fantastic! She’d unceremoniously happen to call one of her friends while I was practising methodically. Oh yes, she’d say, no that isn’t the radio, that’s my darling girl.

How I dreaded Wednesdays at 4:30 and the arrival of the piano teacher. The man creeped me out. I didn’t have the language to describe how I felt, maybe he was a creep, maybe he wasn’t. Maybe we merely disliked each other in equivalent amounts and he just knew that I was not a student who adored his beloved piano.