"I had a plan; it's turned out just FINE."

I had a plan for today’s column. I have been writing a lighthearted short story about the escapades associated with my (male ego-driven) planning of a “dream vacation celebration” for Valerie’s 40^th birthday about twenty years ago. Having written five chapters, I planned to put it out there and ask if you wanted me to continue after your reading of the first two chapters.

And instead, life happened; it had a plan.

When I began writing for this blog-turned-column I made a commitment to myself and to each of you who have graced it with your eyes, minds and hearts that I would always be transparent. Honest. Real. No holds barred (what does that actually mean, anyway?).

Fact is: my tank is empty. Poured out. Operating on vapors. Last night, sitting and looking at the blank television screen, a glass of single malt scotch in hand, I noticed a single word glistening on the LED of the DVD player: PAUSE. I didn’t move for the next couple of hours. I just stared at those five letters. They seemed to shiver, almost as if my cold stare made them want to seek cover; if only I would just turn it off they’d be OK. But, I didn’t move. We both remained transfixed to each other.

I recalled that earlier in the day a friend had asked during a phone call how I was doing. My response spattered out without thought: “I’m fine.” I’ll never forget one time when I had offered that tried and true, instinctive, catchall, canned and socially accepted response to the status of your life situation; I got this response: “You know what FINE actually means, don’t you? Frustrated. Insecure. Neurotic. Emotional.” A few chuckles and hardy-har-hars and it was left at that. But not for long.

The details of my FINE situation are immaterial. At the end of your reading my diatribe about the personal, professional, family and spiritual onslaught many of you might ask what the motive was for my writing this, some might offer sincere empathy, some might invite me to sit and talk about it and maybe (if I am really lucky) even a few invitations for a hug or two. And don’t think for a moment they are not appreciated and those things that I hunger for. But, that is not what I have come to know about and want to share about this magical word, pause.

For me, pause means: stop.

pause

  /pz/ noun, verb, paused, paus⋅ing.

–noun

1.	a temporary stop or rest, esp. in speech or action: a short pause after each stroke of the oar.

2.	a cessation of activity because of doubt or uncertainty; a momentary hesitation.

3.	any comparatively brief stop, delay, wait, etc.: I would like to make a pause in my talk and continue after lunch.

4.	a break or rest in speaking or reading to emphasize meaning, grammatical relation, metrical division, etc., or in writing or printing by the use of punctuation.

5.	Prosody. a break or suspension, as a caesura, in a line of verse.

6.	Music. a fermata.

So what? I consider myself an artist.

Artists find their inspiration in different places and ways. And so I do not think it a coincidence that this week I will be flying back to Minneapolis for a week alone and then driving my car back here to Nashville for the winter. I have been away from my place for forty-five days as a result of Bentley’s nose tumor and subsequent treatment regimen (FYI: he has had NO negative reaction to the meds and the tumor is noticeably shrinking!). So, here’s my dose of ink tonic for what might (prev)ailing in you:

If you ignore your body, it will go away: Pay attention to the signs that you might be ready for a re-fueling, re-tooling, re-vitalization, re-charging. There is a good reason why the subject line of your incoming messages begins with “re:”

Let the need for pause, give you pause: Stopping in your tracks…means stopping the track you are on. Make an appointment with “you” today (or tomorrow latest) for an hour. Go to a place without phones, disconnect, breathe, look, smell, see. If your doctor told you that you had to perform a therapy once a week, or die...you’d likely be scared enough to do it. Why not be scared to life?

Things are really fine: Contentment is something you can have all the time when you remember that living contains a series of “both ands” versus “buts.” Happiness and Sadness are both fleeting. Like Light and Dark. Hope and Desperation. Full and Empty. Life is made from a paradox of these types of extremes. Faith is what you find between the extremes. You need only be still.

For pause.

(b)