To pause

I sit down, exhausted from running around. The days are racing and slowness seems to be hiding. New information arrives by the second — new ideas, new chats, new obligations. Something in me longs for a break, but my mind is strict. Keep going, it says, there's no time to rest.

In many countries, at least in the so-called Western world, restaurants are adapting to the fast pace of modern life. Guests are given slots, and once the 60 or 90 minutes are over, the next guests are already waiting impatiently for their turn at timed pleasure. Gone are the days when restaurants lived up to their name: restaurer – to restore to a former state. Literally, to rest.

Why has it become so difficult to simply pause?

I still remember when a calendar was a collection of twelve photos, hanging on the wall. Only those with a busy work schedule had a diary they'd carry around. My dad had one, as he had several business meetings each day. Fast-forward to today, and it seems most people wouldn't survive without their digital calendar in their pocket. The result? If I want to visit a friend, I need to hope for an appointment at the end of the following week. Space for spontaneity? Nope. Even kids use Google Calendar!

Sometimes I hear my inner voice, asking me to slow down and take a break. But my mind persists: Are you sure there's nothing to do? My hand reaches for my to-do list, I take a quick look — and usually I find something that distracts me from a potential moment of nothingness. If there is no task written down, I often distract myself with guilt — because in a busy world, doing nothing feels wrong.

In one of my Little Buddha books it says, 'When doing nothing, you learn to love emptiness.' I've written these words many years ago — and yet, I still need to learn their message, too. Because the inspirational fiction I write isn't based on perfect achievements, but on my own processes. I'm processing wisdoms as much as the readers of my books are.

And so I keep learning to stay with whatever I'm presented with. Not trying to change what's happening, but instead practicing acceptance. Slowing down and letting the moment simply be. And then I wonder:

What if I allowed myself to pause more often?