I’m standing on a corner waiting for a left green light to appear. Pause. I’m walking to the library and I watch a pink bicycle fall over. Pause. I hum to myself in the hallway. Pause. I go home and I find out a close friend’s grandmother died. Pause. I go to my best friend’s wedding and watch her kiss her new husband. Pause. I go to bed. Pause. I wake up and brush my teeth. Pause. I write in my journal. Pause. I eat. Pause. I breathe. Pause. I live. Pause.
Who’s to say what the pauses in our lives are? The small ones, the big ones, the one’s that sneak up on us, the one’s we document in journals, essays, and poems, the ones that we forget. Maybe life is just one big pause from the moment we’re born to the moment we die.
In my first post, I considered that pauses are when I’m the most human, the most vulnerable, basically the moments when I act completely out of spontaneity with no preconceived actions or words. As Wilson said it, “It’s in those pauses that we were falling with our hands in our pockets—certain that there will soon be a collision but no longer in control.” But those are only the pauses I could really remember when I was first writing: the first kiss, falling on campus, opening a letter, saying goodbye. But what about the other pauses…like the pause of watching leaves fall as Annmarie described. We can only watch them fall, and feel the sun or gravel against our shoes, and instead of analyzing, we can only live, in that moment.
As many mentioned, pauses can only be lived in, they can’t always be analyze, interpreted, important. They are just the “minutia” moments of our lives, but what I’ve come to realize is that pauses-the obviously significant and the unnoticed-are the very makeup of our lives. Maybe some seem more significant than others, maybe some you hold on to, some you wish you’d forget, but ultimately you can’t exist without any of them, even the pauses on the corner, waiting for the street light. You can’t end up at the altar without first walking down the aisle. You can’t love without first saying, “I love you”. You can’t have a new day without first waking, brushing your teeth, remembering to put one foot in front of the other.
Our entire existence is a blank clock. The next tick can’t happen until we move, until we live, until we create pauses that fill what was empty space with life.
“The small pauses are where destiny meets free will” (Nick Brown). They are “The day-by-day repetition of the same ritual, the slight, seemingly unimportant variations from that routine (such as accidentally slicing yourself open with your razor, or making an additional stop on the way to work) and, once in a great while the things that we talk about - vacations, marriages, and other monumental occasions” (Trillium). “We don't necessarily notice them at the time, but weeks, months, or even years later we are able to recall their paramount significance” (Ardell).
Free Will and Destiny; normally repulsed like same charges of opposing magnets, meshed and identified in 9 words. Dashes, parenthesis, and commas; creating the sense of routine voiced in the content of monumental minutia. The suggestion of future perspective, the inspiration of nostalgia, and the revelation of our ignorance regarding the present…
=communal education in literary execution, textual content, and life.
Preface: It’s 11:48 on Thursday night right now. I just finished all the clean-up from a party I had at my apartment earlier tonight—I cooked dinner for my bible study girls. The food was good, the company was great, and the dishes-related aftermath was a total disaster. It’s done now, though, and I feel as I usually do after these kinds of things: full, content, and a little introspective. I’m thinking that maybe I’ll blitz some of these tonight, not because I want to get them out of the way, but because my muse is singing just a little, and why not? So this is where we will begin: Max Richter’s “On the Nature of Daylight”, fresh out of the shower, at what’s now 11:53 on a Thursday.
Now, about this particular blog. I feel like I can say this now—I was hugely nervous about this project. I had a deep-seated desire for you all to like me and find me generally good at writing. But here’s the problem: you were all great. You were too great, and it stunted me; all I could talk about was a random 90s song followed by a small piece of truth. I feared the ranks—I knew I was a rookie, as it were. I didn’t know yet that we’re all just rookies, but some of us are better at wearing stripes than others. I loved the small details you all shared: kmp’s moment between opening a Diet Coke and taking the first sip (as a Diet Coke addict, I related hard to this one), Rebecca’s beeping of the phone followed by a sweet text, John’s cautionary horn that becomes an urban symphony. I like to make too much of things, sometimes—the simpleness of these things comforted me, because they were beautiful and real and not necessarily life changing. The pauses aren’t always full of radical change, and as such they don’t always necessitate a creeping fear. That matters. 12:02.
Four months later I still remember how I felt on this first day of class talking about pauses. I thought, "How true." I don't think I've been the same since.
My roommate and I were talking yesterday about how you never really notice how much a person's changed until you go back and look. I never thought my younger sister looked so grown up until I looked back at Christmas pictures we took five years ago.
Big things happen in life, sure. But life is LIVED in the pauses, the little things. The things that get you from Point A to Point B.
Dr. PD talked about that moment between when you cut yourself with a razor and when it starts hurting. That's what pauses are.
They let you know it you are ok, if you're not ok, or if you're going to be ok.
I guess the most important thing I've learned about pauses is to appreciate them, reflect on them. When I look at that old picture of my sister then look across the room at her beautiful now twenty year old face I can take just a second to let years worth of memories flood in.
Before this post and the whole blog thing began, I considered myself introspective. But talking about being introspective seemed to suck the mystery of it away. Regardless, I posted because at the time I was still fearful, as the motivated among us were. I wanted to be liked, which I know realize is not a selfish thing. I have spent my LIFE trying to appear interesting and yet blend in so as to escape pain. This, I assumed, would win me only the most perceptive of friends. Those brave or intrigued or lonely enough to approach me would find something more valuable than they hoped. So in writing this first blog, I was my usual self, splattering, pretentious and pathetic.
I loved it.
I couldn’t believe what happened when I read other posts – how similar we all were. I loved Tiffannee instantly, because she had been where I was not – in the bliss and honesty available only within friendship with your mother. Her moments spoke to me, and because I gave pause to hear her instead of my own packaged heartache, I learned. And I grew. That was what I came here to do.
Major pause before typing this blog. I can see a million different images (like a pile of shit from all the talk of shit writing in class) and a million different things to say, and yet a long embarrassing pause always precedes my blog entries. It is a pause induced from the intimidation of other's blog entries because of the intricate thought process I assume is involved with their writing.
I now have allegations (sensitive word?)((I paused before deciding to use the word 'allegations' but decided to use it anyways because I really wanted to)) against my initial perspective on the role pauses play in our lives, because initially I said that pauses remind us of the never-changing us, but brewing that over I think it's more likely that they remind us of the ever-changing us.
I ALWAYS pause before hitting "Post Comment", beacuse I just want to be sure that I havne't written something that I've fooled myself into believing or something to try and impress myself with later on; the pause is mainly due to not wanting to seem like "Mr. McVain-insecure-dumb-douche"
I love what Martha Lee said just simply “I eat pause. I breathe. Pause. I live Pause”. This whole concept I think can be broken down to pauses being the simplest parts of our everyday life. I don’t think that there necessarily has to be a time limit on a pause. I think it can be whatever you want it to be. And you want to know the special thing about pauses? They are just between you. They are those special little gifts that life gives you to make it all the more beautiful. When I hear about pauses the natural English major inside me wants to think of some beautiful way to describe them to you. Yet, aren’t that just the moments right now? Before I sat down to write this blog I am sure I encounter too many pauses to even try to count. I turn my computer on, I pause. I read the blog, I pause. I think what I am going to say, and I pause. Yet to me those little pauses no matter how trivial they seem are beautiful because they are the pauses of my life. I think that there are some people who go there whole lives seeking out pauses, when all along they have been right in front of them. Life is a beautiful thing. In my first response I remember what was on my mind when I was thinking about pauses. At that time so many life changing experiences were happening around me and I felt that I had so many pauses that had nothing to do with me. I think this became one of my favorite blogs because it made me start to think about pauses in my life. Now I notice them and I relish in them. I think that this blog became my favorite out of all of them. Where would life be without the pauses that it is constantly creating for us? As I am embarking on the end of my college journey I think that I take each moment and stay in the pauses as long as I can. It’s the pauses that take us out of reality for a moment so we can just look and imagine and dream about all the wonderful things that are happening now and that are to come.
The pauses are the most underrated moments, but they are the ones that usually lead you to the biggest realizations. I was sitting with my legs slung across my boyfriend's lap, thinking about what my life was like two years ago. Puase. I was living with three of my best friends, drinking every night, kissing different boys until the sun rose, and failing out of school. Then I met him and my life started to slw down, I suddenly was not okay with the prospect of working in a restaurant for the rest of my life, and I start taking back control of my life, and he will tell you, we did this for each other. After a tumultuous 6 months where I lost nearly all my friends, he stuck by my side and sat on the phone with me when I would cry myself to sleep about how betrayed I felt. Pause. Fast forward to now, watching a Swordfish after a long night at work, my legs thrown over his lap, him rubbing my feet, I couldn't tell you what was on the screen, but I realize he helped me save myself. In this pause, I realize that my happy ending is what I make it.
And the people living above me might get a happy ending if they spot stomping around day.
Ah, our very first blog. I will admit before this I was a blog virgin. And oh, how I've learned. I now consider myself experienced in the blogging ways, and can't imagine this class without it. The pauses we all wrote about are as unique and interesting as our writing styles. What each pause, each scar, each second we feel really alive means to each of us is thoroughly different, and exactly the same, all at the same time. The fact that we can write these things pausing to think it probably won't make any sense to anyone else, and then BAM, 24 people comment and concur. I remember when I was a blog virgin, and terrified of the whole process. Now that I've got my feet wet, I pause to think, this is pretty awesome. So now I look back on that first blog of mine and see how unimportant and crappy it seems. 1. It was late. 2. I was in a rush. 3. I wrote only what I thought I had to. And yet there was still a whole class behind me reflecting and pausing to write about their pauses. I think I learned what a lot of us did from this first blog, that we are all human, we all pause, and we all write.
I had one of these on Tuesday night. I was sitting in the library, trying to force my self to write a paper that was due on Friday. For some reason, the weight I was feeling suddenly lifted. My head went up with it. I looked around, and I realized I was alive. Not just alive, but ALIVE! Breathing. Happy to have made that discovery, I smiled at the other people in the basement computer lab. I smiled to myself, and I sat in the pause. The pause between working on the final few projects of the semester and completing the most difficult semester of my entire life.
Rebecca typed this about pauses on her first blog for our class: "Yet the simple sweet ones are the ones we play over and over in our heads; not wanting to forget. Pauses seem to be a simple gift given to us in this hectic world that we live in."
I think I'm more aware of those special moments that we all have grown to appreciate, to notice.
I like the honesty that we've all become more capable of as the semester has passed. The quotes above my post reference this over and over. "We are all human, we all pause, and we all write." How profound. How simple. We created something together over the last few months, and we're finishing it now. I hope I can look up at some point, pause, reflect, breath, and appreciate all that we've done.
Last one. I admit, I've been putting this off - I think because I don't want to leave. As I scramble about trying to finish everything that needs to be done in the next week I, as I suspect everyone else is, am looking forward to the month long "pause" in school we have coming up. And, as I think about all of the things we will do - the relatives, the old friends, the bonfires, and silly traditions - I realize more than ever that our lives are truly lived out in the pauses. One of my other classes this semester has talked a lot about "living life on the hyphen" (as in the hyphen between African, Asian, Puerto Rican, etc. and American). I think living life on the pause is a similar concept - finding space for who and what we are within the daily hustle and bustle - between class-work-sleep-eat-homework-clean-exercise. On those hyphens, each of us must find our space, our space to be us and to make the memories that will sustain us in future years.
I've been dreading the end of this class, the end of college as a whole. With eight days left in my undergraduate career I can already look back and see the pauses in college. But, i'm not thinking about the first day of college, or receiving my diploma in the new arena; instead I'm looking back on the pasta dinners, the poker nights with the boys, the times where I fell down my stairs, or how I ran into a girl. Trillium might have said it best, "The day-by-day repetition of the same ritual, the slight, seemingly unimportant variations from that routine."
So I end it with my new definition I guess; A pause, a silence, a brief stillness that later we find to packs quite a punch. It is abundant, stimulating, and powerful. It is an opening for ideas and welcomes creativity. Occasionally, we find sadness and sorrow in these pauses, bringing along tears and ever so familiar pain. Other times they bless us with a touch of comedy and hilarity. Those moments that have little meaning at the time often turn out to be life’s most memorable.
I'm with you Paul, I always pause right before I hit the post comment button. Don't worry, you aren't Mr. McVain-insecure-dumb-douche.
After much reflection, which is uncomfortable for me, I have realized that I am afraid of these pauses that happen in life. I am the kind of person who is constantly on the move. My brain is constantly going from one thought to the next. I never slow down unless I absolutely have to. That way I never have to be in the pause. Once I am in the pause, I am required to step back and actually feel. What? Feelings? My body goes into panic mode. I rarely let myself feel anything. It makes me feel vulnerable, which I don’t like. But maybe these pauses are necessary for people like me. It keeps me human. I, in fact, do need to feel. I do need to take a moment and process my life. One pause that stands out to me in particular happened recently. This summer, my father was diagnosed with MS and he has been struggling with this for the past 6 months. I have talked with him and my mom frequently about it all semester, but I didn’t go home to visit. Partially because life was hectic for me with my classes and work schedule; partially because I didn’t want to see him sick or depressed. Just hearing his voice on the phone was hard enough. He sounded tired and hollow. I didn’t want to see the body that was attached to that voice. So finally I went home for the first half of my Thanksgiving break. Walking up the basement stairs to the crowd of people waiting for me was the longest moment of my life. The anticipation of seeing my father, after hearing him struggle for so long, was killing me. I felt scared. He isn’t supposed to be weak. I opened the door into the kitchen and he is standing there; thinner and older looking than I remember. He has trouble moving so I come to him. In the long seconds it took me to climb the stairs when I was focusing on how different he would be, I realized that he was still my father. That he is still the same man that he has always been. That moment saved me from my own worry. It allowed me to stand strong in front of him; to support him when he needed it the most. That is why I need the pauses. To allow myself to panic. To let those feelings out and bring myself back in. To be human for a small second.
I wish I would have given this blog thing more of a chance when we first started. I "paused" too much thinking I was too cool for blogging. Well, what do you know? I actually kinda like it. Don't tell anyone...
The pause now, as you might have guessed, that means the most in my life is the one I'm in right this very second. It's close to finals, I have one more semester of school before I'm done. I could go on and on about how it feels like only yesterday when I set foot in my new apartment to meet my two roommates thinking, "Well, gee, this is going to be interesting." I've actually considered writing a book about this...or an essay...maybe just something for the Circle (shameless plug)...coming soon!
Regardless, I'm at a transition point in my life. As a ropes course counselor for the last three years, I've learned a lot about children and how they cope with fear. There's way more going on fifty feet in the air besides knees knocking and foreheads sweating. You're becoming something.
"On a typical ropes course element, there are several "clip-in" points; places where you have to be clipped out of the previous rope holding you in the air in order to be clipped into the next one. YOU MUST NEVER unclip a child completely; you clip him into the new system first. Then, and only then, after you've flow checked his new system, do you unclip him from the old one." This is what the man who trained me told me. It's true, you have to have a hold of the future rope before you can let go of the past. Obviously, it is completely unsafe to have a kid fifty feet up not attached to anything (which, sadly, counselors have done in the past). But this man justified it with possibly the best metaphor for life I've ever heard and what sums up my life up to this point as I look into the future:
"You can tiptoe around it all you want, Robert, but the fact is, it doesn't matter where you're going in the future if you don't have a grip on the past. Only after you've reconciled with it can you move on, because after all, it's when we are in the transitions of our lives--the moments between the ropes--that we're most vulnerable. Don't give in to that chance."
Reading over the old blog of pauses I realize that this very moment is a pause. We are coming to an end...the end of the class and this semester as a whole. To me, this class has turned out to be a major pause. Honestly, in the beginning of the semester and a little ways through I didn't know if this class was right for me. It was not set up like a normal class with the blogs especially. I was afraid. In my first blog post about the pauses I held back. I took the safe route, but could have went deeper. However, reflecting on this course, I can say that this has been a pause that has taught me a lot about writing, myself, others, and even life. I guess I wouldn't have realized it if I was still afraid to try something different than the norm, which is surprisingly not like me. So, now I will take a moment to pause and thank God that I made it through another semester and course.
I admit, when DR.KP-D first started talking about pauses, my first thought was "Oh god...one of THESE classes." This was one of those happy times when I'm glad I was wrong. I couldn't think of a good "pause" the first time I blogged about it. I approached it the complete wrong way, but now I think I'm in a place where I actually understand what everybody's pauses are.
I learned it in this class, day-by-day. My pauses happen daily, but never in a way I've consciously realized. When we reviewed each other's papers, I'll admit, I barely read the one I was given. I was too busy watching the girl in front of me read my paper, trying to guess where she was; was she laughing at the jokes? Was there something I put in there that needed to be left out? (I'm sorry I don't know your name, I'm terrible about that, but you ride horses or something and I think that's awesome. You're awesome. We talked about Q. Carr dropping that punt in the Iron Bowl that time.) My most frequent pauses; the almost insignificant seconds between the end of a joke and its response; the difference between a chuckle, uproarious laughter, and a total bomb. Those are the most stressful moments of my life, and the times when I'm most vulnerable.
Wow, this looks super fun. Since I have no internet where I live, I had to make the trek to the library. LET'S START ON THIS LAST MINUTE, SHALL WE?
It is just a little intimidating looking at GIANT WALLS OF TEXT, so I think I will try to err on the shorter side, if you don't mind.
I remember this. I remember it was something I didn't have a name for because I simply lived it. It's funny how we gave it the name of a pause, because we don't stop. We never stop, as a matter of fact. Movement defines life, and when we "stop," that is when we die. Perhaps the name we chose is simply to aid our comprehension, maybe not. Regardless, it is a fitting name because then, we are given literal pause from the suffering of human existence.
I think this first post was one that stood out to me above any of the rest. Four months later, I still consider the pauses and life and how different life would be otherwise.
After reading your posts again, I realized something- almost every one could relay back an instance where a pause had somewhat effected their lives, yet, I couldn't do that.
I was not and still am not really in tune with my life. I don't take time to notice the small things anymore and all of my time and energy is focused on what do I have to do next? I never really relish in the moment anymore.
This makes me wonder, has adulthood and being responsible and grown up really robbed me of all of the simple beauties of this world? I think so.
So I am vowing to take a moment and enjoy the simple pleasures that I have been so lucky to have- breathing in cleanish? air,choosing between chocolate and vanilla, being able to be sad,mad happy, and everything in between, and having the choice to never look back.
I cannot mislead you though. I will vow to take a moment and enjoy the little pauses but somethings I will have to sprint just to make it through the day without going stir crazy. Once again, one of the many beauties that a pause can give us- do I sprint or do I stroll through this moment?
Pauses. Wow, this is going way back to the beginning, a time when I didn’t know any of you or what I was even doing in a 4000 level English class. This was probably one of the coolest ways to start off this class – I loved this article. I still think about it every time there’s a storm.
Pauses. In my first post I talked about the pauses of my weekend. I think it’s funny to apply this to the past semester and look at a few of the pauses in this class. Like the pause after Wilson left that post, before Dr. P responded to it on the blog and then in the email. Or the really really long pause (or at least it felt that way) between when most of us admitted to not have done the reading and the moment she set up Hocus Pocus and left the room. And then there were the normal pauses of hesitation before one of the girls in the front corner of the room would talk.
Pauses. What do they say about us? What do they mean? Well, I think that in this particular case – we are a class of hot messes and we are okay with everyone knowing it. And that we should be “thankful for the process is just as important as seeing a task through to its conclusion” (Josh). I’m thankful for this class. I’m thankful for the pauses and the beginning awkward stage of this semester. Without that awkward beginning, that awkward pause if you will, I don’t think we’d be as open and honest with each other as we have been since. And thank God.
I am going to have to say the pauses blog was one of my favorites, even though it took me a while to actually figure out what I wanted to say. I think John summed up my thoughts on pauses: “At first glance, I see the pause as a gift, as a chance to sit back and reflect on a surprisingly profound or significant event in our biopic. At times, certain amounts of introspection can lead to a certain, limited sense of enlightenment.” A pause is actually a gift, because it does give us a break. It is like a time to breathe and take it all in. A lot of times we forget to just breathe. We always try to fill every space and every crevice with something meaningful and enlightening, but a lot of times the silence says so much more. A pause is like the cream in the middle of the Oreo. A lot of people see the pauses as the best part and to other people see it as the mushy and sweet part that they like to scrape off because it makes them uncomfortable. I think pauses are spectacular meaningful little moments in life that we all need to take advantage off.
The pauses. My favorite class this semester. By far.
This is the one thing that I will remember as long as my memory lasts. It sounds silly, but this class made me appreciate the pauses. Made me recognize them for what they are- moments in our lives. Not periods of time to rush through and forget once they are gone. But they are moments that are lost forever as soon as they are gone.
And what are pauses, but actually moments where something else is happening. Take for example the pause between a red light and a green light. Yes there is a pause in the switching of the light, but if we are so focused on the pause, we miss the birds flying in a V formation over the car, or the swaying of the fall colors in the trees surrounding the intersection. I rush through pauses without noticing what all is in them, what they contain.
I guess what I am trying to say is that this idea of a pause, the absence of an action can’t exist in the full sense. There is always action, but I get so focused on one action that when there is a pause, I miss everything else. Those pauses are what is beautiful in life. They have become to me an opportunity to notice the details, the world around me. In the minute pauses (i.e. the pause before the bleeding on a cut) do not have this luxury, but even those pauses are a momentary reprieve from pain, from blood. And those reprieves are good things, time segments to be cherished and relished.
This is what I love about the class. Even though I am not a fan of blogging, I love the idea of exchanging ideas in this setting. While I question the idea that we are getting to know one another (I still don’t know half of the class’s names), I do know that I have been changed by reading these blogs everytime. I know I have been challenged and forced to think differently. And that is what a learning community is about after all. It’s what I’m paying the big bucks in tuition for.
I'm pausing now because, like Trillium above, I don't want this class to end. Every letter that I type is a step closer to an academic world I have come to loathe, and I pause because I don't want to go back. I don't want to keep on writing papers that I don't agree with, yet am certain they are going to get a decent grade. I don't want to keep on reading horrendous novels that add absolutely nothing to my education. I don't want to continue the process of grinding the love of writing out of me through another pointless, cookie-cutter essay. But as I pause, I have faith that it won't happen again. I won't get stuck in the rhythms and vomit out crap after crap after crap. By examining myself during this pause, I have rekindled my love affair with the written word, and so when I pause from now on it, it won't be to sigh. It won't be to groan. It most certainly won't be to gnash my teeth, and throw expletives up to the silent gods sneering down. No, now I pause to muse and to relish and to really sink into writing.
Without this class, I don't know if I could have ever changed my pause. Maybe the thought process would have evolved, but the basic premise would have remained the same. But now, I think it is so much more. Hold on
Four months later...my, oh my. Little did I know I've been talking to myself this whole time. My subconscious was creeping into my school work whispering "Run, Sara, Run..." What will I be remembered as? The girl who was all about balance? Maybe. And maybe that's not a bad thing...but if I'm honest about where I've come in four months balance isn't what I can talk about anymore...there is so much more to say. Little did I know then, but these blogs were like pauses in my life. Moments when I was forced to reflect on the position I was in, afraid to express myself in real time, and therefore afraid to express myself here. Always playing it safe. But thank goodness for the pauses. Catherine said, "These pauses leave permanent scars on us, no physically, but psychologically." And that is so true. I have battle wounds from this semester. I have fought harder than I ever have, first against my thoughts, and then for them. Without these pauses, here, I don't know when I would have realized how badly I needed to fight for my voice.
I’m standing on a corner waiting for a left green light to appear. Pause. I’m walking to the library and I watch a pink bicycle fall over. Pause. I hum to myself in the hallway. Pause. I go home and I find out a close friend’s grandmother died. Pause. I go to my best friend’s wedding and watch her kiss her new husband. Pause. I go to bed. Pause. I wake up and brush my teeth. Pause. I write in my journal. Pause. I eat. Pause. I breathe. Pause. I live. Pause.
ReplyDeleteWho’s to say what the pauses in our lives are? The small ones, the big ones, the one’s that sneak up on us, the one’s we document in journals, essays, and poems, the ones that we forget. Maybe life is just one big pause from the moment we’re born to the moment we die.
In my first post, I considered that pauses are when I’m the most human, the most vulnerable, basically the moments when I act completely out of spontaneity with no preconceived actions or words. As Wilson said it, “It’s in those pauses that we were falling with our hands in our pockets—certain that there will soon be a collision but no longer in control.” But those are only the pauses I could really remember when I was first writing: the first kiss, falling on campus, opening a letter, saying goodbye. But what about the other pauses…like the pause of watching leaves fall as Annmarie described. We can only watch them fall, and feel the sun or gravel against our shoes, and instead of analyzing, we can only live, in that moment.
As many mentioned, pauses can only be lived in, they can’t always be analyze, interpreted, important. They are just the “minutia” moments of our lives, but what I’ve come to realize is that pauses-the obviously significant and the unnoticed-are the very makeup of our lives. Maybe some seem more significant than others, maybe some you hold on to, some you wish you’d forget, but ultimately you can’t exist without any of them, even the pauses on the corner, waiting for the street light. You can’t end up at the altar without first walking down the aisle. You can’t love without first saying, “I love you”. You can’t have a new day without first waking, brushing your teeth, remembering to put one foot in front of the other.
Our entire existence is a blank clock. The next tick can’t happen until we move, until we live, until we create pauses that fill what was empty space with life.
“The small pauses are where destiny meets free will” (Nick Brown). They are “The day-by-day repetition of the same ritual, the slight, seemingly unimportant variations from that routine (such as accidentally slicing yourself open with your razor, or making an additional stop on the way to work) and, once in a great while the things that we talk about - vacations, marriages, and other monumental occasions” (Trillium). “We don't necessarily notice them at the time, but weeks, months, or even years later we are able to recall their paramount significance” (Ardell).
ReplyDeleteFree Will and Destiny; normally repulsed like same charges of opposing magnets, meshed and identified in 9 words. Dashes, parenthesis, and commas; creating the sense of routine voiced in the content of monumental minutia. The suggestion of future perspective, the inspiration of nostalgia, and the revelation of our ignorance regarding the present…
=communal education in literary execution, textual content, and life.
Preface: It’s 11:48 on Thursday night right now. I just finished all the clean-up from a party I had at my apartment earlier tonight—I cooked dinner for my bible study girls. The food was good, the company was great, and the dishes-related aftermath was a total disaster. It’s done now, though, and I feel as I usually do after these kinds of things: full, content, and a little introspective. I’m thinking that maybe I’ll blitz some of these tonight, not because I want to get them out of the way, but because my muse is singing just a little, and why not? So this is where we will begin: Max Richter’s “On the Nature of Daylight”, fresh out of the shower, at what’s now 11:53 on a Thursday.
ReplyDeleteNow, about this particular blog. I feel like I can say this now—I was hugely nervous about this project. I had a deep-seated desire for you all to like me and find me generally good at writing. But here’s the problem: you were all great. You were too great, and it stunted me; all I could talk about was a random 90s song followed by a small piece of truth. I feared the ranks—I knew I was a rookie, as it were. I didn’t know yet that we’re all just rookies, but some of us are better at wearing stripes than others. I loved the small details you all shared: kmp’s moment between opening a Diet Coke and taking the first sip (as a Diet Coke addict, I related hard to this one), Rebecca’s beeping of the phone followed by a sweet text, John’s cautionary horn that becomes an urban symphony. I like to make too much of things, sometimes—the simpleness of these things comforted me, because they were beautiful and real and not necessarily life changing. The pauses aren’t always full of radical change, and as such they don’t always necessitate a creeping fear. That matters. 12:02.
Four months later I still remember how I felt on this first day of class talking about pauses. I thought, "How true." I don't think I've been the same since.
ReplyDeleteMy roommate and I were talking yesterday about how you never really notice how much a person's changed until you go back and look. I never thought my younger sister looked so grown up until I looked back at Christmas pictures we took five years ago.
Big things happen in life, sure. But life is LIVED in the pauses, the little things. The things that get you from Point A to Point B.
Dr. PD talked about that moment between when you cut yourself with a razor and when it starts hurting. That's what pauses are.
They let you know it you are ok, if you're not ok, or if you're going to be ok.
I guess the most important thing I've learned about pauses is to appreciate them, reflect on them. When I look at that old picture of my sister then look across the room at her beautiful now twenty year old face I can take just a second to let years worth of memories flood in.
And that's pretty cool.
Before this post and the whole blog thing began, I considered myself introspective. But talking about being introspective seemed to suck the mystery of it away. Regardless, I posted because at the time I was still fearful, as the motivated among us were. I wanted to be liked, which I know realize is not a selfish thing. I have spent my LIFE trying to appear interesting and yet blend in so as to escape pain. This, I assumed, would win me only the most perceptive of friends. Those brave or intrigued or lonely enough to approach me would find something more valuable than they hoped. So in writing this first blog, I was my usual self, splattering, pretentious and pathetic.
ReplyDeleteI loved it.
I couldn’t believe what happened when I read other posts – how similar we all were. I loved Tiffannee instantly, because she had been where I was not – in the bliss and honesty available only within friendship with your mother. Her moments spoke to me, and because I gave pause to hear her instead of my own packaged heartache, I learned. And I grew. That was what I came here to do.
Major pause before typing this blog. I can see a million different images (like a pile of shit from all the talk of shit writing in class) and a million different things to say, and yet a long embarrassing pause always precedes my blog entries. It is a pause induced from the intimidation of other's blog entries because of the intricate thought process I assume is involved with their writing.
ReplyDeleteI now have allegations (sensitive word?)((I paused before deciding to use the word 'allegations' but decided to use it anyways because I really wanted to)) against my initial perspective on the role pauses play in our lives, because initially I said that pauses remind us of the never-changing us, but brewing that over I think it's more likely that they remind us of the ever-changing us.
I ALWAYS pause before hitting "Post Comment", beacuse I just want to be sure that I havne't written something that I've fooled myself into believing or something to try and impress myself with later on; the pause is mainly due to not wanting to seem like "Mr. McVain-insecure-dumb-douche"
I love what Martha Lee said just simply “I eat pause. I breathe. Pause. I live Pause”. This whole concept I think can be broken down to pauses being the simplest parts of our everyday life. I don’t think that there necessarily has to be a time limit on a pause. I think it can be whatever you want it to be. And you want to know the special thing about pauses? They are just between you. They are those special little gifts that life gives you to make it all the more beautiful. When I hear about pauses the natural English major inside me wants to think of some beautiful way to describe them to you. Yet, aren’t that just the moments right now? Before I sat down to write this blog I am sure I encounter too many pauses to even try to count. I turn my computer on, I pause. I read the blog, I pause. I think what I am going to say, and I pause. Yet to me those little pauses no matter how trivial they seem are beautiful because they are the pauses of my life.
ReplyDeleteI think that there are some people who go there whole lives seeking out pauses, when all along they have been right in front of them. Life is a beautiful thing. In my first response I remember what was on my mind when I was thinking about pauses. At that time so many life changing experiences were happening around me and I felt that I had so many pauses that had nothing to do with me. I think this became one of my favorite blogs because it made me start to think about pauses in my life. Now I notice them and I relish in them.
I think that this blog became my favorite out of all of them. Where would life be without the pauses that it is constantly creating for us? As I am embarking on the end of my college journey I think that I take each moment and stay in the pauses as long as I can. It’s the pauses that take us out of reality for a moment so we can just look and imagine and dream about all the wonderful things that are happening now and that are to come.
The pauses are the most underrated moments, but they are the ones that usually lead you to the biggest realizations. I was sitting with my legs slung across my boyfriend's lap, thinking about what my life was like two years ago. Puase. I was living with three of my best friends, drinking every night, kissing different boys until the sun rose, and failing out of school. Then I met him and my life started to slw down, I suddenly was not okay with the prospect of working in a restaurant for the rest of my life, and I start taking back control of my life, and he will tell you, we did this for each other. After a tumultuous 6 months where I lost nearly all my friends, he stuck by my side and sat on the phone with me when I would cry myself to sleep about how betrayed I felt. Pause. Fast forward to now, watching a Swordfish after a long night at work, my legs thrown over his lap, him rubbing my feet, I couldn't tell you what was on the screen, but I realize he helped me save myself. In this pause, I realize that my happy ending is what I make it.
ReplyDeleteAnd the people living above me might get a happy ending if they spot stomping around day.
Ah, our very first blog. I will admit before this I was a blog virgin. And oh, how I've learned. I now consider myself experienced in the blogging ways, and can't imagine this class without it. The pauses we all wrote about are as unique and interesting as our writing styles. What each pause, each scar, each second we feel really alive means to each of us is thoroughly different, and exactly the same, all at the same time. The fact that we can write these things pausing to think it probably won't make any sense to anyone else, and then BAM, 24 people comment and concur. I remember when I was a blog virgin, and terrified of the whole process. Now that I've got my feet wet, I pause to think, this is pretty awesome.
ReplyDeleteSo now I look back on that first blog of mine and see how unimportant and crappy it seems. 1. It was late. 2. I was in a rush. 3. I wrote only what I thought I had to. And yet there was still a whole class behind me reflecting and pausing to write about their pauses. I think I learned what a lot of us did from this first blog, that we are all human, we all pause, and we all write.
I had one of these on Tuesday night. I was sitting in the library, trying to force my self to write a paper that was due on Friday. For some reason, the weight I was feeling suddenly lifted. My head went up with it. I looked around, and I realized I was alive. Not just alive, but ALIVE! Breathing. Happy to have made that discovery, I smiled at the other people in the basement computer lab. I smiled to myself, and I sat in the pause. The pause between working on the final few projects of the semester and completing the most difficult semester of my entire life.
ReplyDeleteRebecca typed this about pauses on her first blog for our class: "Yet the simple sweet ones are the ones we play over and over in our heads; not wanting to forget. Pauses seem to be a simple gift given to us in this hectic world that we live in."
I think I'm more aware of those special moments that we all have grown to appreciate, to notice.
I like the honesty that we've all become more capable of as the semester has passed. The quotes above my post reference this over and over. "We are all human, we all pause, and we all write." How profound. How simple. We created something together over the last few months, and we're finishing it now. I hope I can look up at some point, pause, reflect, breath, and appreciate all that we've done.
Last one. I admit, I've been putting this off - I think because I don't want to leave. As I scramble about trying to finish everything that needs to be done in the next week I, as I suspect everyone else is, am looking forward to the month long "pause" in school we have coming up. And, as I think about all of the things we will do - the relatives, the old friends, the bonfires, and silly traditions - I realize more than ever that our lives are truly lived out in the pauses. One of my other classes this semester has talked a lot about "living life on the hyphen" (as in the hyphen between African, Asian, Puerto Rican, etc. and American). I think living life on the pause is a similar concept - finding space for who and what we are within the daily hustle and bustle - between class-work-sleep-eat-homework-clean-exercise. On those hyphens, each of us must find our space, our space to be us and to make the memories that will sustain us in future years.
ReplyDeleteI've been dreading the end of this class, the end of college as a whole. With eight days left in my undergraduate career I can already look back and see the pauses in college. But, i'm not thinking about the first day of college, or receiving my diploma in the new arena; instead I'm looking back on the pasta dinners, the poker nights with the boys, the times where I fell down my stairs, or how I ran into a girl. Trillium might have said it best, "The day-by-day repetition of the same ritual, the slight, seemingly unimportant variations from that routine."
ReplyDeleteSo I end it with my new definition I guess; A pause, a silence, a brief stillness that later we find to packs quite a punch. It is abundant, stimulating, and powerful. It is an opening for ideas and welcomes creativity. Occasionally, we find sadness and sorrow in these pauses, bringing along tears and ever so familiar pain. Other times they bless us with a touch of comedy and hilarity. Those moments that have little meaning at the time often turn out to be life’s most memorable.
I'm with you Paul, I always pause right before I hit the post comment button. Don't worry, you aren't Mr. McVain-insecure-dumb-douche.
ReplyDeleteAfter much reflection, which is uncomfortable for me, I have realized that I am afraid of these pauses that happen in life. I am the kind of person who is constantly on the move. My brain is constantly going from one thought to the next. I never slow down unless I absolutely have to. That way I never have to be in the pause. Once I am in the pause, I am required to step back and actually feel. What? Feelings? My body goes into panic mode. I rarely let myself feel anything. It makes me feel vulnerable, which I don’t like.
But maybe these pauses are necessary for people like me. It keeps me human. I, in fact, do need to feel. I do need to take a moment and process my life.
One pause that stands out to me in particular happened recently. This summer, my father was diagnosed with MS and he has been struggling with this for the past 6 months. I have talked with him and my mom frequently about it all semester, but I didn’t go home to visit. Partially because life was hectic for me with my classes and work schedule; partially because I didn’t want to see him sick or depressed. Just hearing his voice on the phone was hard enough. He sounded tired and hollow. I didn’t want to see the body that was attached to that voice. So finally I went home for the first half of my Thanksgiving break. Walking up the basement stairs to the crowd of people waiting for me was the longest moment of my life. The anticipation of seeing my father, after hearing him struggle for so long, was killing me. I felt scared. He isn’t supposed to be weak. I opened the door into the kitchen and he is standing there; thinner and older looking than I remember. He has trouble moving so I come to him.
In the long seconds it took me to climb the stairs when I was focusing on how different he would be, I realized that he was still my father. That he is still the same man that he has always been. That moment saved me from my own worry. It allowed me to stand strong in front of him; to support him when he needed it the most. That is why I need the pauses. To allow myself to panic. To let those feelings out and bring myself back in. To be human for a small second.
I wish I would have given this blog thing more of a chance when we first started. I "paused" too much thinking I was too cool for blogging. Well, what do you know? I actually kinda like it. Don't tell anyone...
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ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteNow we come to the finish.
ReplyDeleteThe pause now, as you might have guessed, that means the most in my life is the one I'm in right this very second. It's close to finals, I have one more semester of school before I'm done. I could go on and on about how it feels like only yesterday when I set foot in my new apartment to meet my two roommates thinking, "Well, gee, this is going to be interesting." I've actually considered writing a book about this...or an essay...maybe just something for the Circle (shameless plug)...coming soon!
Regardless, I'm at a transition point in my life. As a ropes course counselor for the last three years, I've learned a lot about children and how they cope with fear. There's way more going on fifty feet in the air besides knees knocking and foreheads sweating. You're becoming something.
"On a typical ropes course element, there are several "clip-in" points; places where you have to be clipped out of the previous rope holding you in the air in order to be clipped into the next one. YOU MUST NEVER unclip a child completely; you clip him into the new system first. Then, and only then, after you've flow checked his new system, do you unclip him from the old one."
This is what the man who trained me told me. It's true, you have to have a hold of the future rope before you can let go of the past. Obviously, it is completely unsafe to have a kid fifty feet up not attached to anything (which, sadly, counselors have done in the past). But this man justified it with possibly the best metaphor for life I've ever heard and what sums up my life up to this point as I look into the future:
"You can tiptoe around it all you want, Robert, but the fact is, it doesn't matter where you're going in the future if you don't have a grip on the past. Only after you've reconciled with it can you move on, because after all, it's when we are in the transitions of our lives--the moments between the ropes--that we're most vulnerable. Don't give in to that chance."
:)
Reading over the old blog of pauses I realize that this very moment is a pause. We are coming to an end...the end of the class and this semester as a whole. To me, this class has turned out to be a major pause. Honestly, in the beginning of the semester and a little ways through I didn't know if this class was right for me. It was not set up like a normal class with the blogs especially. I was afraid. In my first blog post about the pauses I held back. I took the safe route, but could have went deeper. However, reflecting on this course, I can say that this has been a pause that has taught me a lot about writing, myself, others, and even life. I guess I wouldn't have realized it if I was still afraid to try something different than the norm, which is surprisingly not like me. So, now I will take a moment to pause and thank God that I made it through another semester and course.
ReplyDeleteI admit, when DR.KP-D first started talking about pauses, my first thought was "Oh god...one of THESE classes." This was one of those happy times when I'm glad I was wrong. I couldn't think of a good "pause" the first time I blogged about it. I approached it the complete wrong way, but now I think I'm in a place where I actually understand what everybody's pauses are.
ReplyDeleteI learned it in this class, day-by-day. My pauses happen daily, but never in a way I've consciously realized. When we reviewed each other's papers, I'll admit, I barely read the one I was given. I was too busy watching the girl in front of me read my paper, trying to guess where she was; was she laughing at the jokes? Was there something I put in there that needed to be left out? (I'm sorry I don't know your name, I'm terrible about that, but you ride horses or something and I think that's awesome. You're awesome. We talked about Q. Carr dropping that punt in the Iron Bowl that time.) My most frequent pauses; the almost insignificant seconds between the end of a joke and its response; the difference between a chuckle, uproarious laughter, and a total bomb. Those are the most stressful moments of my life, and the times when I'm most vulnerable.
Silly, isn't it?
Wow, this looks super fun. Since I have no internet where I live, I had to make the trek to the library. LET'S START ON THIS LAST MINUTE, SHALL WE?
ReplyDeleteIt is just a little intimidating looking at GIANT WALLS OF TEXT, so I think I will try to err on the shorter side, if you don't mind.
I remember this. I remember it was something I didn't have a name for because I simply lived it. It's funny how we gave it the name of a pause, because we don't stop. We never stop, as a matter of fact. Movement defines life, and when we "stop," that is when we die. Perhaps the name we chose is simply to aid our comprehension, maybe not. Regardless, it is a fitting name because then, we are given literal pause from the suffering of human existence.
Thank you for teaching me this.
I think this first post was one that stood out to me above any of the rest. Four months later, I still consider the pauses and life and how different life would be otherwise.
ReplyDeleteAfter reading your posts again, I realized something- almost every one could relay back an instance where a pause had somewhat effected their lives, yet, I couldn't do that.
I was not and still am not really in tune with my life. I don't take time to notice the small things anymore and all of my time and energy is focused on what do I have to do next? I never really relish in the moment anymore.
This makes me wonder, has adulthood and being responsible and grown up really robbed me of all of the simple beauties of this world? I think so.
So I am vowing to take a moment and enjoy the simple pleasures that I have been so lucky to have- breathing in cleanish? air,choosing between chocolate and vanilla, being able to be sad,mad happy, and everything in between, and having the choice to never look back.
I cannot mislead you though. I will vow to take a moment and enjoy the little pauses but somethings I will have to sprint just to make it through the day without going stir crazy. Once again, one of the many beauties that a pause can give us- do I sprint or do I stroll through this moment?
Pauses. Wow, this is going way back to the beginning, a time when I didn’t know any of you or what I was even doing in a 4000 level English class. This was probably one of the coolest ways to start off this class – I loved this article. I still think about it every time there’s a storm.
ReplyDeletePauses. In my first post I talked about the pauses of my weekend. I think it’s funny to apply this to the past semester and look at a few of the pauses in this class. Like the pause after Wilson left that post, before Dr. P responded to it on the blog and then in the email. Or the really really long pause (or at least it felt that way) between when most of us admitted to not have done the reading and the moment she set up Hocus Pocus and left the room. And then there were the normal pauses of hesitation before one of the girls in the front corner of the room would talk.
Pauses. What do they say about us? What do they mean? Well, I think that in this particular case – we are a class of hot messes and we are okay with everyone knowing it. And that we should be “thankful for the process is just as important as seeing a task through to its conclusion” (Josh). I’m thankful for this class. I’m thankful for the pauses and the beginning awkward stage of this semester. Without that awkward beginning, that awkward pause if you will, I don’t think we’d be as open and honest with each other as we have been since. And thank God.
I am going to have to say the pauses blog was one of my favorites, even though it took me a while to actually figure out what I wanted to say. I think John summed up my thoughts on pauses:
ReplyDelete“At first glance, I see the pause as a gift, as a chance to sit back and reflect on a surprisingly profound or significant event in our biopic. At times, certain amounts of introspection can lead to a certain, limited sense of enlightenment.”
A pause is actually a gift, because it does give us a break. It is like a time to breathe and take it all in. A lot of times we forget to just breathe. We always try to fill every space and every crevice with something meaningful and enlightening, but a lot of times the silence says so much more. A pause is like the cream in the middle of the Oreo. A lot of people see the pauses as the best part and to other people see it as the mushy and sweet part that they like to scrape off because it makes them uncomfortable. I think pauses are spectacular meaningful little moments in life that we all need to take advantage off.
The pauses. My favorite class this semester. By far.
ReplyDeleteThis is the one thing that I will remember as long as my memory lasts. It sounds silly, but this class made me appreciate the pauses. Made me recognize them for what they are- moments in our lives. Not periods of time to rush through and forget once they are gone. But they are moments that are lost forever as soon as they are gone.
And what are pauses, but actually moments where something else is happening. Take for example the pause between a red light and a green light. Yes there is a pause in the switching of the light, but if we are so focused on the pause, we miss the birds flying in a V formation over the car, or the swaying of the fall colors in the trees surrounding the intersection. I rush through pauses without noticing what all is in them, what they contain.
I guess what I am trying to say is that this idea of a pause, the absence of an action can’t exist in the full sense. There is always action, but I get so focused on one action that when there is a pause, I miss everything else. Those pauses are what is beautiful in life. They have become to me an opportunity to notice the details, the world around me. In the minute pauses (i.e. the pause before the bleeding on a cut) do not have this luxury, but even those pauses are a momentary reprieve from pain, from blood. And those reprieves are good things, time segments to be cherished and relished.
This is what I love about the class. Even though I am not a fan of blogging, I love the idea of exchanging ideas in this setting. While I question the idea that we are getting to know one another (I still don’t know half of the class’s names), I do know that I have been changed by reading these blogs everytime. I know I have been challenged and forced to think differently. And that is what a learning community is about after all. It’s what I’m paying the big bucks in tuition for.
I'm pausing now because, like Trillium above, I don't want this class to end. Every letter that I type is a step closer to an academic world I have come to loathe, and I pause because I don't want to go back. I don't want to keep on writing papers that I don't agree with, yet am certain they are going to get a decent grade. I don't want to keep on reading horrendous novels that add absolutely nothing to my education. I don't want to continue the process of grinding the love of writing out of me through another pointless, cookie-cutter essay. But as I pause, I have faith that it won't happen again. I won't get stuck in the rhythms and vomit out crap after crap after crap. By examining myself during this pause, I have rekindled my love affair with the written word, and so when I pause from now on it, it won't be to sigh. It won't be to groan. It most certainly won't be to gnash my teeth, and throw expletives up to the silent gods sneering down. No, now I pause to muse and to relish and to really sink into writing.
ReplyDeleteWithout this class, I don't know if I could have ever changed my pause. Maybe the thought process would have evolved, but the basic premise would have remained the same. But now, I think it is so much more. Hold on
Let me check.
Yeah, it's changed. Thanks Dr. P.
Four months later...my, oh my.
ReplyDeleteLittle did I know I've been talking to myself this whole time. My subconscious was creeping into my school work whispering "Run, Sara, Run..."
What will I be remembered as? The girl who was all about balance? Maybe. And maybe that's not a bad thing...but if I'm honest about where I've come in four months balance isn't what I can talk about anymore...there is so much more to say.
Little did I know then, but these blogs were like pauses in my life. Moments when I was forced to reflect on the position I was in, afraid to express myself in real time, and therefore afraid to express myself here. Always playing it safe.
But thank goodness for the pauses. Catherine said, "These pauses leave permanent scars on us, no physically, but psychologically." And that is so true. I have battle wounds from this semester. I have fought harder than I ever have, first against my thoughts, and then for them.
Without these pauses, here, I don't know when I would have realized how badly I needed to fight for my voice.