Soulspoken Letters: The Observation Series

Some moments, I know I’m off before I know why.  I hear it in my voice.  I feel it in my body.  I notice I’m rushing through something that doesn’t require rushing, answering a question before I’ve really heard it, or carrying frustration from one moment into the next.

There it is.  The gap.  The space between how I intended to show up and how I’m actually showing up.

My instinct has often been to close that gap as quickly as possible.  Fix it.  Explain it. Apologize for it.  Make a better decision.  Do something.

I’m learning that sometimes the most useful thing I can do is pause.  Not because I’m avoiding what needs to happen next, but because I may not be ready to know what needs to happen next.

Pause.

A pause gives me a little distance from the first thought, the first emotion, and the first reaction. The first thoughts, emotions, and reactions are probably based on "mental programming" and wrong!  The pause gives my body time to settle and my awareness time to catch up.

Sometimes that’s one breath.  Sometimes it’s putting the phone down.  Sometimes it’s saying, “Give me a minute.”  Sometimes it’s walking away long enough to make sure the person who comes back is the person I actually want making the decision.

I used to think knowing what to do next was the important part.  I’m beginning to think seeing clearly comes first.

Clarity usually doesn’t arrive while I’m busy blaming, complaining, defending, reacting, explaining, or trying to force an answer.  It needs some room.  That’s what the pause creates.

I don’t always need to know what to do next.  Sometimes I just need to stop doing what I’m doing long enough to see clearly.

The pause doesn’t solve the problem.  It doesn’t erase what happened.  It doesn’t guarantee that my next choice will be the right one.  It simply interrupts the momentum.

And sometimes that interruption is enough to remind me that I have options.  I can keep reacting.  Or I can consciously participate in what happens next by chosing my response.

That distinction is becoming increasingly important to me.  Presence isn’t having the perfect response ready.  Presence is being here enough to recognize that a response is mine to choose.

So when I notice the gap, I’m practicing not rushing across it.  I am working to pause.  I am working to breathe.  I am working to notice what’s happening in me.  And I am working to give myself enough space to see clearly.

That pause gives me enough space to choose how I participate in the problem.

What comes after that?  I’m still learning.

But I know this much: Before I can return, I have to stop long enough to realize where I am.

The Presence Tee Line was created as an outer reminder of an inner intention.  Each expression points toward the same practice: becoming conscious enough to notice what is happening within you, and present enough to choose what happens next. 

The shirt cannot create the pause for you.  That part is yours.  But what you wear can help keep the idea close when the day starts moving faster than you want it to.

More presence.  Less noise.