The hā

Last year I went to a writers talk given by Lauren Groff. During this talk, (I'm paraphrasing) she talked to the importance and necessity of allowing ourselves to have 'fallow' periods in our lives. That in the fallow times, there is growth too, not always measurable, still just as valuable and necessary. A pause in a world that tells us to stay busy and engaged in productivity. As Susan Cain says in her work 'Bittersweet', the space between the notes gives meaning to the notes on either side. 

I've just come back from two weeks in my version of paradise. Off-grid, in nature, slowing down. This is when and where I feel like I am nurturing myself. That I am allowing the fallow, the quiet, the slowing. Only this time, it was hard. I initially noticed resistance to slowing, a desire to keep busy, to move and to do. There were so many ways to not allow myself the slowing down. And then I did. Consciously. I chose to lay on the couch. To read, to take slow walks with my 9 year old, to play imaginary games, to nap, to sit and stare at this view. 

In a lot of the work that I do with people, we practice pausing, for a second, a minute, longer. A pause to breathe, to notice, to allow ourselves to acknowledge, name, feel, respond rather than react. These pauses aren't always easy or comfortable, they often take practice and intention.There are so many reasons why we might choose not to pause. Maybe there are just as many reasons we might choose to?