I spend a lot of time encouraging my clients to pause. Pausing to take a deep breath before they face something challenging. Pausing as they consider their next move. Pausing to enjoy the sunset, a hug from their child, a delicious meal. Pausing before saying something that might feel good for a split second, but may cause a world of pain for them and their target.

Pausing and being present is helpful for anyone struggling with mental health challenges, but it’s really a valuable tool for everyone. It allows us to get a little extra oxygen and clear our minds before diving back into the scramble of life.

I know this, but I don’t always do it.

As my work calendar fills, I’m still trying to maintain our cozy home and am responsible for Jack’s schedule. I’m taking classes to learn therapeutic approaches like IFS and EMDR. I still have friends and family I want to see. And, I’m trying hard to get this 50+ year old body into shape to avoid another fall. Days go by without my intended 15-minute meditation.

Days go by without a single pause.

Yesterday was particularly busy. Jack had an early morning blood draw, I had a day full of clients and needed to complete another session of my IFS training. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get it all done. 

I’m not sure I said a word to Jack as we left the house and drove over to the lab. My brain was too busy trying to figure out the puzzle of my day.

Once we parked and I walked over to get Jack out of the car, he looked up at me with the most magnificent smile. The smile melted all my concerns over how I would get through the day. 

I ditched my worry over my schedule and let Jack and his beautiful approach to life lead the way. We hopped slowly into the building enjoying the early morning sunshine land on our faces. We spent several minutes pushing buttons on the elevator (I apologize to anyone who might have had to go to every floor of the building). We took a moment to pause and to smile at everyone we passed.

When we checked in, the wonderful young women behind the counter welcomed Jack and he gave her a hi-five, grabbed her hand and licked it. She laughed the way people who aren’t scared of “different” do. We then sat down in the waiting room and Jack made friends with the fish in the large tank and an older gentleman who did his best to ignore Jack until Jack managed to win him over. When they called his name, Jack bounced up and started following the nurse before I had time to collect our coats and Jack’s diaper bag. I raced behind them, loving that Jack was in charge.

We sat down and Jack’s smile didn’t fade as the technician prepped his arm, put on the arm band, and counted to three. Jack just stared at the technician with his beautiful smile as the tubes got filled.

We left the way we came, greeting everyone along the way with a pause and a smile.

Jack and I drove home blaring 70s on 7 and walked in the door with smiles on our faces and Supertramp still playing in our minds.

Today we went to see Jack’s endocrinologist and today we didn’t miss a beat. We blared the music in the car and smiled and paused our way to and through the appointment. Life is so much better with pauses and smiles — thanks JackO!!!

Give a little bit

Give a little bit of your BLOOD to me

I’ll give a little bit

I’ll give a little bit of my BLOOD to you

Love, Mom