Another morning mad rush from a business meeting to your doctor's appointment. On to the gym, then meeting a friend for a quick caffeine infusion.

Dashing off to manage a pressing family issue, your eye catches a ray of sunlight bouncing off the dew-covered grass. Unthinkingly you pause and breathe in the beauty. The moment fills you with a profound sense of well-being.

Pausing is both a natural response to life and a powerful tool. The space between here and there is a time-out, an opening where you surrender to an out-of-time experience.

Are you aware of the pause and its powerful effect?

I enjoy painting a mental picture of a janitor who's worked a long night shift. His feet are aching and there is one more hallway to sweep. He stops, props the broom against the wall, stretches out on the floor and puts his feet up at the same angle as the broom. For a few minutes, he pauses and rests. He basks in releasing the push of his work, honoring his aching body.

So many times during the day, a pause presents precisely what we need - a gap in time that moves us, even momentarily, into a simple appreciation of being alive.

When I was growing up it was common for each of us, as young children, to want to get back to whatever lively activity we were doing before we were called for meals.

"Can we start eating, Mom?" The urge to dish up the food, gobble it down and resume life was our norm.

Mom's personal style of pausing was saying grace before meals, providing the family with three spiritual pauses.

Even if my legs were swinging eagerly under the table, there was something captivating about closing our eyes, folding our hands in prayer, bowing our heads and waiting to see who spontaneously would offer the prayer. I actually preferred it when the silent pause lingered. When no one jumped in, I learned to value pausing in silence.

What do such pauses mean to you?

Sometimes I listen to people carrying on conversations with overlapping words and people interrupting each other. Then, miraculously, everything stops. For a moment, no one speaks and everyone feels the significance of the pause as a tiny shiver tingles up my spine. I recognize the familiar pause and its effect: People want to speak and they also want to be heard. The pause opens the space for that to occur.

Other times when my daughter phones in a frenzy, worried about money, my propensity to jump in and problem solve is painfully familiar. Learning to pause before responding affords me the space and time to consider something new.

The pause creates a bridge between here and there - a place of silence where we meet and everyday concerns fall away. Often this space is where love, compassion and understanding gently arise.

On another level is the visual pause. Staring at the computer screen for hours - researching, writing, e-mailing, reading the news - my eyes ache until something tells me to turn away and pause. Taking a moment to look elsewhere is a minor miracle, changing my perspective completely.

And remember the comma, the friendly bit of punctuation that pauses the flow of words. It invites us to slow down, to take in the writer's thoughts, to process our response. Ah, lovely comma, did you know that you are the epitome of pause and effect?

We breathe in and we breathe out. Somewhere between the in breath and the out is a pause, a slight hesitation - and then we continue.

Right before delivering a punch line or getting the point across, a masterful speaker will pause. The audience sits on edge, hanging at the precipice of a pause. Wondering what comes next is captivating, spellbinding - an experience we long to return to time and time again. An effective pause cannot be ignored.

Could we use the compelling power of the pause to stop our bickering and fighting? If we paused before taking a drink, a bite or a puff, wouldn't we be healthier people? If we pause between your words and mine, we build trust, respect and gratitude.

I'm considering using yellow traffic lights, the place between stop and go, as a visual reminder to pay attention - and pause. If you see someone lingering at the yellow light, it might be me, appreciating the pause and effect. And if there's a dog with me, you can trust that it's all about the paws.



Contact Ruth Marcus at www.DrRuthMarcus.com.