Intervals

It's cool and comfortable in the southland. The temperature is 61 degrees fahrenheit. Today is Thursday.

There are times when you have to pause. These intervals come when we choose to stop. Sometimes, it is also when we are compelled to stop because of illness, because things breakdown, and these days - because for many - it's plain exhaustion. There just aren't more than 24 hours in a day - for any of us.

So much has happened since the last note to the universe. It's been a hard time for so many - and even those who are not directly derailed by some of the things happening in the world, are still feeling the impact. The empaths are feeling very low; the resisters are moving closer to exhaustion, the thinkers are feeling the threat of their work being destroyed, and many are feeling lost about what can be done as bearing witness seems to demand action now.

The intervals are where you find a way to move through these times. For many, it's staying focused on what is readily at hand: keeping steady with caregiving, making a garden produce food, cleaning up messes and clearing space so breathing is easier. Some are moving toward being in service to communities that are feeling vulnerable and confused about the mismatch between the rhetoric and story of democracy and the reality of today's manifestation of it. In the space between the chaotic events, there is a place where a moment of calm brings clarity.

If you haven't had a chance to exhale fully, the interval is where you can remember to do that. If you haven't slowed the breath so more oxygen can reach the brain, try the interval in your life, where there is nothing except stillness and breath. All of us will one day realize that these things are not to be taken for granted - we will be compelled to stillness and lose breath. Why not practice this as part of a way of being - to notice what happens when we will finally pause. What will be left?

In meditation last night, the thought came: all the crises have a purpose - a singular purpose of distraction and destruction. When words and actions move to stimulate fear and distrust, the distraction moves us away from caring, and closer to frustration and anger. Then we risk losing our capacity to remember that human beings really are the same in the most fundamental ways: we want children to be safe and secure, we want to stay healthy and find support when things break down, we want to live without violence, and we want to cultivate our gifts to be in service to others, knowing that is service to ourselves.

Many yearn to know what path to take in life. They are living without making it to the interval in life. So the unease persists – and finally in pausing, something happens. That's where the answer has room to emerge.