We live in a world that increasingly drives us with urgency and outrage.
We become so accustomed to next-day delivery that waiting even a few days feels unfathomable. We become acclimated to instant gratification, we expect instant results, we demand instant answers.
The urgency hijacks our nervous systems, sending our primitive systems into hyper-vigilance and fight-or-flight response.
Constantly on-edge, we become reactive instead of responsive. In a hijacked state, we are not able to respond—to be response-able.
For all the wonders of technology and innovation that have made many parts of life easier, we are, in some ways, worse off than our ancestors.
So acclimated to the hustle, the rushing, and the constant pressure to do, share, produce, and perform, we don’t know how to be.
For many years, I have seen in myself and my clients how a moment of stillness, an afternoon of rest, can evoke guilt and shame, a feeling that I should be doing something productive right now.
I confess that, despite all I have written and teach about rest, I am complicit in my own acquiescence to urgency culture. Urgency is a reliable trigger of adrenaline, which can light a spark to action. As a woman with ADHD, I am often seeking ways to compensate for low dopamine. Urgency (and its cousins, anger and outrage) has long been one of my most reliable strategies.
This is not a sustainable way to live.
It’s not a way to create a life of wholeness and wellness; of meaning and purpose; of connection, care, and consideration.
It is not a way to instill in ourselves and our children our inherent worthiness outside of what we produce and accomplish.
We are human beings, not just human doings.
This is something our ancient ancestors knew well.
Before we had clocks and calendars and to-do lists to dictate our movements, they followed the cycles of the seasons and stars.
They understood the power of a sacred pause, the creative fertility of the empty space, the benefits of boredom, the possibilities that emerge from the imaginal realm, from the space created when we allow time to just be.
In my best moments, on my best days, I remember this.
Not in my mind, but in my body. In my soul.
The Winter Solstice: Claim Your Sacred Pause
The Winter Solstice is a day to come back to that knowing.
The Winter Solstice is one of the four turns of the year when the earth stills as we enter the next season.
Read: An Introduction to the Energy of the Seasons
The word solstice —from sol, meaning Sun, and stice meaning still — is the point at which the Sun reaches its lowest declination. Technically, it’s a moment in time, not even a full day, where, from our perspective on Earth, the Sun pauses.
This is a day to embrace the darkness. From here, the light gradually returns.
Read: 7 Winter Solstice Rituals to Embrace Darkness
The Solstice reminds us that …
Everything in nature operates in seasons and cycles.
Urgency is the antithesis of creativity and productivity.
Incubation feeds growth.
Rest is vital medicine. Stillness is the precursor to momentum.
Read: How to Celebrate the Winter Solstice
A sacred pause does not need to be earned or granted. You have the right to claim it. Perhaps even an obligation to claim it.
Read: 3 Rituals to Celebrate the Winter Solstice
In a world that increasingly conditions us to live under the weight of urgency and pressure, claiming a sacred pause is a silent act of rebellion.
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