Why Pausing Matters: Listening to Your Body at Year’s End
If you’re exhausted, maybe it’s not because you’re doing life wrong; maybe it’s because you’ve been too wise to keep pushing through.
The Truth About Pausing (and Why It’s So Hard)
Let’s start with a confession: I used to think that if I ever really slowed down, I’d lose my edge. I’d fall behind. I’d disappoint everyone: my clients, my colleagues, and especially my family. Maybe you know that feeling too. The fear that if you stop, even for a moment, you’ll never get back up.
Jess (not her real name), a seasoned therapist and one of the earliest members of the Pause Before You Pivot community, once said to me, “If I let myself rest, I’m afraid it'll all fall apart.” She’d built a career on being the steady one, the helper, the one who always had the right words. But inside, she was unraveling. Burnout wasn’t a word she liked, but it was a reality she couldn’t ignore.
And here’s the thing: Jess isn’t alone. You’re not alone. The helpers, the healers, the ones who hold space for everyone else are so often the ones who need the deepest pause, but we’re also the ones least likely to take it.
The Radical Act of Doing Nothing
Let’s get a little controversial. What if the bravest thing you could do right now is… nothing? Not another training. Not another goal. Not another round of “just push through.”
Our culture rewards the grind. We equate busyness with worth. We celebrate the therapist who squeezes in one more client, the nurse who skips lunch, the teacher who stays late. But your body—your wise, loyal body—has its own language. And sometimes, it’s whispering (or screaming): “Enough.”
Pausing isn’t laziness. It’s a radical act of self-trust. It’s a way of saying, “I matter, too.”
Listening to the Body: Stories from the Edge
I’ve sat with dozens of helpers at the edge of burnout. I’ve seen the tears that come when someone finally admits, “I can’t keep going like this.” I’ve witnessed the relief and terror of letting go, even for a moment.
One client, a first responder, described his body as a “locked vault.” He’d learned to compartmentalize, to power through. But when we practiced a simple body scan, he noticed his jaw was clenched, his fists tight. “I didn’t even realize,” he said, “that I was holding so much.”
Another, a physician, told me, “My body feels like a warning light I keep ignoring.” She’d been waking up with headaches, snapping at her kids, feeling increasingly numb. “I’m supposed to have it together,” she said. “But what if pausing is actually what ‘together’ looks like?”
The Pause Practice: A Gentle Invitation
You don’t need a weekend retreat or a silent meditation marathon. You need five minutes. Maybe even less. Here’s a practice I share with everyone who joins Pause Before You Pivot:
Find a safe, comfortable spot. Feet on the floor. Hands resting in your lap or on your heart.
Close your eyes or soften your gaze. Take a slow, honest breath. Notice the air moving in and out.
Scan your body, head to toe. Where do you feel tension? Where is there ease? What’s calling for your attention?
Ask: “What is my body telling me about this year?” Maybe it’s grief. Maybe it’s pride. Maybe you’re just tired. Let it all be okay.
Breathe kindness into those places. No pressure to change. Just witness and notice.
You might feel resistance. You might get distracted. That’s all part of it. This isn’t about “doing it right.” It’s about showing up for yourself with the same compassion you offer everyone else.
You’re Not Broken, You’re Human
If you feel numb, anxious, or even angry as you pause, that’s not failure; it’s feedback. Your nervous system is doing its best to protect you. You’re not broken, you’re human. The world may not reward you for pausing, but your body will.
Jess, the therapist I mentioned earlier, started with two-minute pauses between sessions. She’d place a hand on her heart and ask, “What do I need right now?” Sometimes the answer was water. Sometimes it was a deep sigh. Over time, she noticed she was less reactive and more present; not just with her clients, but with herself as well.
The Science (and Soul) of Pausing
Research shows that intentional pauses such as mindful breaks, body scans, gentle breathing can lower cortisol, improve mood, and even boost creativity. But beyond the science, there’s a soul-level wisdom in stopping. When you pause, you reconnect with your values, your desires, your why. You remember that you are more than your productivity.
The Myths We Carry
Let’s name a few myths:
If I stop, I’ll fall behind.
If I rest, I’ll lose my purpose.
If I listen to my body, I’ll be overwhelmed by what I feel.
Here’s the truth: Pausing doesn’t erase your drive. It clarifies it. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you wise. It doesn’t drown you in feelings. It gives those feelings space to move, breathe, and eventually, settle.
A Gentle Dare
So here’s my invitation - or gentle dare - if you will: Try a five-minute pause today to honor the wisdom that’s already inside you. Notice what shifts, if anything. And if nothing shifts, that’s wisdom, too.
Write down what you notice. Or don’t. Share it with a buddy. Or keep it close. There’s no wrong way to pause.
What Would Feel Nourishing Right Now?
As you finish reading, take a breath. Place a hand on your heart, if that feels okay. Ask yourself: “What would feel nourishing in my body right now?” Maybe it’s movement. Maybe it’s stillness. Maybe it’s reaching out for support.
If you want gentle company on this journey, I’m here. No pressure, just possibility.
You’re allowed to move, breathe, and rest. You’re allowed to pause before you pivot.
If you try this, I’d love to hear what you notice. Drop a comment, send a message, or just hold your insight close. You’re not alone.
You’re not broken, you’re human. And sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is nothing at all.
