The Power Of The Pause

Sometimes, the most radical thing we can do is… nothing. Not nothing in the sense of ignoring life, but nothing in the sense of not pushing, not forcing, not rushing to have the answers. The

pause — that quiet, unhurried space — is where inspiration resides. It’s where growth, clarity, new ideas, and transformation quietly unfold, not just in our minds but within our very cells.

Our cellular structure is alive with possibility. Cells carry both our DNA and the stories of where we’ve come from — but neither is fixed. Both are capable of change, of awakening. When we give ourselves permission to pause, the rational mind takes a step back and the intuitive mind has room to rise. This is the part of us that imagines, dreams, and receives new vision. (Einstein reminded us that imagination is more important than knowledge, and he was onto something.)

In practices like yoga or meditation, many of us have felt this shift firsthand: not just a change in mood or perspective, but a reordering at the very core of who we are. When we soften our grip, our cells recalibrate. The pause becomes fertile ground — the soil in which fresh energy, vision, and purpose begin to grow.

Over the past couple of years, I stepped back from teaching, from communicating through newsletters, from hosting group retreats, and from much of what my daily life had been for over a decade. I paused not to hide or avoid, but to heal, to learn, to evolve — to become 'same-same, but different'. To listen more deeply, both to the land I care for and to my own inner evolution.

Why the Pause Matters

The pause is not always easy — in fact, it’s often uncomfortable. Especially in the West, many of us are conditioned to keep moving, keep producing, keep proving our worth through busyness. When we stop, what rises can be raw and very human: uncertainty, doubt, fear, longing, money concerns, questions of security. The pause can feel like sitting in fire. This is why so many of us resist it.

But here’s the paradox: the very discomfort we face in the pause is what makes it so transformative. If we can breathe through it, if we can sit still long enough to let those fears burn off, something new begins to emerge.

The pause is not a void, it’s a crucible. It softens everything that once felt urgent — our schedules, our goals, our anxieties — and in that softening, it reveals what truly matters. On the other side of the discomfort, we discover a refined vision of purpose, fresh energy, new inspiration, and a deeper trust in life’s unfolding. We receive answers that are aligned with the soul, offering alignment and purpose.

From Pause to Flow

When we stop pushing, the next steps often appear with surprising clarity. Lessons, inspiration, and ideas arrive when we are ready to receive them — not when we force them. Just as lava cools slowly to form new land, stillness shapes itself into structure, vitality, and growth.

The pause invites us to balance the rational and intuitive. The rational mind analyzes the past and projects into the future. The intuitive mind lives in the present, and it’s here, in the present, where the information and guidance we’re seeking can be found. We need both, of course, however, the tendency to live mostly in the rational mind limits our ability to tune in.

In yoga, there’s a teaching: sthira sukham āsanam — “the posture should be steady and easeful.” This balance between effort and ease isn’t just for the mat; it’s for life. When we find the courage to sit down, to stop trying harder or doing more, we discover that often the answers come in doing less.

The pause is not a break from life; it is life, unfolding in its own perfect timing.

Closing Thoughts

My most recent pause wasn’t one I chose. It arrived as illness — a full stop I couldn’t ignore. But I recognized what was happening and surrendered to it. On the other side, I emerged stronger, clearer, and more alive — I felt like my superpowers grew to the next level!

If we don’t allow ourselves to pause, spirit has a way of enforcing it. The good news is, we don’t always have to wait for a forced stop. We can sense the pauses coming — the end of a cycle, the quiet pull to rest — and meet them willingly. When we collaborate with the pause instead of resisting it, we discover its power.

Just as in breath: inhale, pause; exhale, pause; repeat. The pause is woven into the rhythm of life itself. It is the space where we touch infinity, where we glimpse the Akashic, where we remember our own limitlessness.

I invite you to experiment with your own pauses — small or large, chosen or unexpected. Notice what rises, what falls away, and what blooms in the space you create.

Lessons from the Lava

When you pause, expect the fire. Doubt, fear, or longing may rise — welcome them. Stay with it. What remains on the other side is clarity, vitality, and vision.