Pause

The Gift of Moments Between

I’m back from a long pause. I took a holiday.

Though a pause and a holiday aren’t necessarily the same thing. Holidays can be busy too. I know someone who plans theirs in Excel: rows for restaurants, cafés, and museums; columns for timing. Every hour accounted for.

Mine was the opposite. Empty. Spacious. Slow rhythm.

Time does not flow equally in all places.
Robert Poynton in Do Pause

After breakfast, we spent our mornings reading on the terrace of the ancient, tiny house we rented on the north coast of Brittany. It was situated in the middle of a vineyard, with the sea stretching out before us. We decided which coastal walk to take with our dog Filou, strolling along rocky paths that wound their way along the coast. The sky and sea seemed endless, and for October, we were lucky with warm sun; we even swam in the sea. It was simple, unhurried, and exactly what I needed—a pause that felt like more than just a break.

Pause doesn’t require three weeks away. It can be as brief as one minute.

It isn’t about the hour on the clock, but about how you experience time in a place.
Robert Poynton in Do Pause

A pause is time:

For the mind to wander—to observe, listen, notice
For ideas to simmer beneath the surface
For insights to settle and absorb
For new perspectives to surface unexpectedly
To give serendipitous encounters a chance
For creative disruption, for wonder

It’s not empty time. It’s open time.

We need pauses. So, I wonder sometimes, why don’t we take more pauses?

Pausing feels like a luxury — a reward that comes only after the work is done. We feel we have to justify rest, to prove we deserve it. But life doesn’t wait for the work to be finished, does it? The work just keeps piling on.

What if pausing is the work itself?

At a recent workshop, someone shared: “I put ‘rest’ on my informal list of things that need to happen today.”

It sounded funny — but it wasn’t a joke.
He was serious, smiling as he said it.
Breaking the rhythm matters.

Rest interrupts the flow of things. It’s not the end, but the in-between — and sometimes even the beginning of something new.

We need these spaces between — a different quality of being and thinking — to see, to understand, to imagine, to renew.

And yes, in my long pause, new ideas bubbled up. Small shifts. Quiet realisations. A few things I now want to do differently.

I invite you to pause.

This might be your opportunity for a mini pause.
Right now.
If you want.

Close your eyes if that feels comfortable.
Take three slow, deep breaths.
Notice what you hear around you.
What sensations do you feel in your body?
What thoughts are passing through your mind?
Simply be present. You don’t need to act on anything or change anything. Just let this moment be.

Welcome back. What did you notice?

Wishing you a pleasant day.

Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is nothing at all.

We invite you to a pause.
How does that sound? Could you do with a break?

On November 20, join us for a 30-minute pause — a small exploration into the kinds of stillness you could welcome more often. What happens when we give ourselves permission to breathe? There’s something beautiful waiting in those pauses.

This marks the beginning of Rebel with a Pause, a new project Ewen Le Borgne and I are quietly developing — an invitation to discover how moments of stillness can help heal work culture and open new possibilities.

If this whispers to you, we’d love to connect.

The bit at the end

Exciting events on the horizon to support your exploration:

This winter, join Street Wisdom in Alkmaar — cozy, inspiring, and full of surprises. Come rain, sun, or storm, we’ll explore the streets or find inspiration inside with a warm cup of tea. Find the dates and sign up here.
Join the next Unhurried Conversation—a space to slow down, listen, and connect. We meet every 2nd Monday of the month. It’s free, and you’re warmly welcome. Sign up here.
For more Learning Moments, subscribe to my newsletter and get timely updates straight to your inbox.

Reach out, I’m always open for a chat.
Creatively,
Nadia

P.S.The paintings featured on the blog are my own.