Pausing before we react
The pace of life is fast. The headlines are louder than ever. Conversations — at work, at home, even online — can turn heated in an instant.
Right now, reactivity is everywhere. Reactions spread like wildfire. And when we react, we don’t just react alone — the tension in our bodies, the sharpness in our tone, the speed of our words ripple outward into our families, workplaces, communities, and the world.
I’ve seen how quickly reactivity spreads. Just a few moments scrolling social media, a glimpse of the headlines, or overhearing tweens speak openly about how heavy life feels right now — it can feel jolting.
These moments remind me how upside-down things can feel on the outside, and how easily that turbulence stirs things up on the inside. And what does it do? It pulls us further from ourselves. It convinces us to see enemies in each other. And when we do that, we reject part of ourselves — because at our core (big gulp), we are one humanity.
As Stephen Covey popularized from Viktor Frankl’s work:
“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”
That space is the pause. And it’s in the pause where we reclaim choice, where we shift the ripple, and where freedom begins.
How does that land for you? Whatever stirred in you is a thread — an invitation to look inside. Because the pause isn’t just about calming down; it’s about noticing what’s been touched and getting curious about why.
And there is another way.
When we pause — even for a single breath — the ripple changes. Pauses ripple like a gentle stream. That pause interrupts the pattern.
It gives us space to notice: What’s happening in my body? What’s present in my mind? What choice do I want to make now?
The pause is not silence, and it’s not weakness. The pause is strength. It’s the choice point between repeating old patterns or creating a new path.
Reactivity cuts us to the core. It pokes at our beliefs, values, behaviors, and long-held patterns. It makes us face the stories we carry about who we are and who others are. In that way, it becomes a mirror — sometimes a harsh one.
The gift, though, is that a pause allows us to actually look in that mirror.
To notice: What in me is being triggered here? What part of me is asking to be healed? The pause doesn’t erase the discomfort, but it transforms it into an opportunity for awareness. And awareness, again and again, is what creates choice.
A Practice for This Week
This week, I invite you to try this:
When something triggers you — an email, a headline, a disagreement — pause for one conscious breath before responding.
Inhale slowly, exhale fully.
Notice what shifts in your body.
Ask: What ripple do I want to create here?
That single pause may soften your tone, shift your perspective, or even open a new possibility.
The ripple of our pauses extends far beyond us. When we bring presence into our families, it nurtures safety and love. When we pause in our workplaces, it creates space for collaboration and respect. When we pause in our communities, it opens the door for dialogue instead of division. And when we pause together, the ripple touches the world.
Every pause is a small act of healing. Every pause is a seed for belonging.
Because the truth is this: every conflict begins with a reaction, and every healing begins with a pause.
And when we pause together, we have the opportunity to shift the trajectory — to bring the human back into humanity.
And more on that next time.