This year I have been learning how to pause.
So much of my life has been about racing.
Racing to an appointment, to meet a deadline, or to finish a meal.
To help the kids, phone my mother, or buy groceries.
Running to a dinner with friends, or to a class, or to pick up tickets at the “will call.”
Worrying about the next book to read, or story to edit, or new feature on YogaCity NYC.
Lately I have been spending a lot of time studying the Bhagavad Gita—one big pause inside the bigger epic of the Maharbhata. In practice I’ve been observing the pause between the inhale and the exhale, the exhale and the inhale. And I’ve been watching the transitions from one posture to another as I move on my mat.
I had the good fortune to study the Alexander Technique with Witold Fitz-Simon earlier this year, and it motivated me to pause more as I move in the world. To look before I leap and be fully present before I proceed.
In other words, I have been learning about yoga. The moment between thought, speech, and action when there is a union of infinite possibility and consciousness.
On this day of Thanksgiving, it seems appropriate to take a moment to express deep appreciation to the teachers, friends, family, and assorted contacts that have helped me discover the profundity, beauty, and fleeting nature of The Pause.
And the realization that we are constantly in a state of samadhi. It is only our inabilities to wait long enough to touch it.