The power of a pause

I took a break
held myself in my own two hands
and wept for those
who have not realized
they can do the same

I took a break
invited my neighbors
the orphan and the widow
the poor and the trans person
into my heart
let them leave
the confines of my head
for just a little while

I took a break
because love is an action word
and I know that if I remain
uprooted and unrooted
the uprising ends -
my very soul will rebel
deeming me useless for
all the trials ahead

I took a break
a breath
a moment and a pause
sunk into the depths
of flesh and bone
let my cells sing a song
about freedom and hope

I took a break
what about you?

Many years ago now, I began "overdoing it" as some would say. But giving to depletion was not without reward. Once the stories of my body and my life were made known in the spaces that I occupied, I would receive a sort of reverence and awe from my peers. "She's a unicorn," they would say at meetings and over texts at 1 a.m.. And, while these accolades never quite landed in my weary soul, I did like being known for my ability to rise and rise and rise. But then, I fell.

Like all good fairy tales, this story would be reshaped by trial and tribulation and lessons and - perhaps, it would even gift readers a good moral or two. Because (spoiler alert) giving to depletion is not sustainable for any of us. Especially the unicorns.

Here's the truth of the matter, dearest soul tender. At some point, you (too) will attempt to be a do-it-all unicorn. You'll be smack dab in the middle of your own version of wildness. And then one day you will wake up, and that wildness will have become wilderness. You will be uncertain of who you are, what you are doing (in motherhood, caregiving, your marriage, work, life), or where you are going. You will have bypassed the joys and maybe even the grief because of your lack of presence. Your inability to pause. Fortunately or not, when the pause does come it may not be of your choosing. And that, my friend, is a hard bite to swallow.

We all want a say in the journey, don't we?

From my experience, the soul always has a say. Mine prefers the safety of slow, she wants to be grounded, and her greatest desire is to be in alignment for my highest and best (for the ripple effect).

As with all good things, rest, pause, and presence is learned through hands-on practice. I am presently in a space of deep rest. Yes, this still challenges all the old versions of me who pushed on through. And, it is here that I am reminded that a foundational part of life is centered on pause. I have seen this first-hand, journeying through birth, postpartum and loss spaces with my clients. The breath between contractions so that birth can happen with the least interventions possible. The fourth trimester period after birth, where women and birthing people have the opportunity to integrate their experience and their baby/ies into life before going back out into the world. The "season" of bereavement where life cannot go on as normal and so, intentionally or not, rest and pause shows up. In all three of these spaces I have seen resistance, of course. But, I have also seen persistance. Folx who want to birth, postpartum and grieve well. Who are willing to get uncomfortable for just a little while and/or trust their instincts.

In this season that you are in right now, do you need to take a break?

There is no perfect or right time to press pause, darling soul.

And, if we want to live out our purpose, there is no better time than the present to listen to what the soul has to say.

I'm with you always.