How to pause when things feel too much

A few weeks ago I spent a long weekend at an Art of Living Silence Program. The thing I noticed most was that the absence of things awakened me to all that was there, right in front of me, all the beauty, and all the things I'd been distracting myself from - grief, sadness, and the heaviness of loss.

On day one I turned off my phone completely and placed it at the bottom of my bag. Each day I woke with the sunrise and took my time, whether I had half an hour or two hours before the first scheduled practice, to welcome the day: getting up, looking outside, deciding what kind of weather the day would bring (since I couldn't check the weather app), showering, dressing, and walking to the property where we spent our days.

The first two hours of the program were spent moving, breathing, and meditating. Then breakfast, back into meditation, lunch, a break to walk or sit or do whatever we wanted, yoga nidra, more meditation, dinner, and back for the evening session - usually an educational talk about the art of living. Literally. Then a short walk back to where I was staying, getting ready for bed, and asleep by around 9pm.

I didn't speak to anyone for the whole program, yet day by day, minute by minute, my mind became clearer and the world around me more vivid. I re-established a relationship with myself. I met feelings and emotions that needed my attention, had conversations with myself that needed to be had, and connected with my inner child, my inner friend, my inner mother, wife, sister, and daughter. I had sweet moments with my mum, and most of all, remembered a joy that always exists - in the shadows and the light of our everyday lives.

On the last day, the program manager, the person we give our loved ones' phone number to in case of an emergency, approached me just after breakfast, right before our final session, holding his phone. "I have a message from your husband. Everything is okay, but I thought I should show you right away." Everything was okay, but the message told me my dad had collapsed three days earlier with a heart problem and needed a pacemaker, and needed me to come pick him up. Of everyone in our family, I happened to be the one in Byron Bay, closest to where he was.

I took a deep breath (I can imagine I did, though I don't really remember), told the manager I'd be leaving, grabbed my bags, called an Uber, and headed up the coast to the hospital in Coolangatta, about an hour away.

I didn't freak out. I didn't panic or become overwhelmed - I just did what needed to be done. I knew all was well, and that even if it wasn't, I'd be okay. I felt grounded, clear, and strangely joyful. I picked dad up, and long story short: he's fine. He has a pacemaker in his heart now and feels a lot safer knowing it's there when he needs it. A friend joked, "I'm having a Notebook flashback - his heart stopped because he was heartbroken after your mum died!" It's all part of what the poet Mary Oliver calls this one wild and precious life. All of it - the good, the bad, and the ugly.

How do we know our lives are precious if we don't meet their opposites - the challenges, the heartache, the sorrow and grief? It's precious because of the very things we try to avoid and distract ourselves from.

"We can be so distracted by the doings of life that we forget our call to live a life of meaning." — Tracee Stanley, The Luminous Self

Now, we don't have to go on a silence program to wake up. We just need to pause once in a while and listen to the wisdom of our heart and mind.

Here are a few ways I pause daily:

Before getting out of bed each morning - Pause for as long as you like, even just one minute. Close your eyes and feel your body lying on the bed. Place your hands over your heart space and take three long, slow, deep breaths. As you do, welcome yourself into the day. You might remember your dreams, think of something you're grateful for, or simply enjoy three breaths before entering the day.

Mid-morning - Make a tea, or whatever your favourite drink is. Leave your phone in another room. Make the drink mindfully — listening, smelling, noticing your thoughts and feelings without an agenda, without judgement. Enjoy your drink without adding anything else. Just you and your favourite drink.

Afternoon - Take a break from work, chores, or whatever else fills your day. Again, leave your phone out of the picture. Do something nourishing for yourself - take a nap, do a short yoga nidra practice, go for a short walk with nowhere to be. If you're short on time, three nourishing, intentional, slow deep breaths will do.

I promise - if you do one or all of these daily pauses regularly, your life will change for the better.

Thank you for being here.

Warmly, Zoe 🧡