the art of pause
why slowing down might be the most creative act of all
Sometimes the most creative thing we can do is stop. To step away from the pressure to produce and simply listen—not just to the next idea or task, but to the quiet underneath it all. To the body asking for gentleness. To the heart saying, “Tend to me.”
In my fourth decade of life, it’s become more apparent than ever that the nervous system carries more than just stress. It holds stories, memories, and a deep need for rest. I’ve come to recognize that slowing down isn’t the absence of progress, but rather an invitation to listen for what wants to emerge. I’ve learned that this is the ground from which creativity begins.
One of the greatest impediments to my own creativity has been resisting the need to slow down—to carve out space for respite so my nervous system can recalibrate. This is where over two decades of mindfulness practice have become invaluable. It’s not only shaped the way I pay attention to the world around me, but also how I’ve cultivated the ability to listen deeply to my inner landscape.
Of course, that doesn’t mean I don’t fall short. My monkey mind still hijacks my attention, my anxiety still rises. But I’ve acquired tools that, more often than not, give me the ability to pause, notice, and take stock of what’s moving through me in response to what’s happening around me.
Writing, in many ways, has both informed and been informed by my mindfulness practice. Writing has been instrumental in fortifying my capacity to be present. Much like mindfulness, it requires a willingness to show up, to sit with what is arising, and to observe without judgment. As a writer and a creative, this ability to observe the world is essential. It invites me to engage with life more artfully, to get curious about what wants to emerge, and to listen for how that creative impulse wants to express itself.
Being an artist and a creative is, at its heart, a way of engaging with the natural world. Living artfully becomes not only how we see and experience life, but how we choose to let life move through us. And sometimes, the best way to detach from thoughts about what shape that expression should take is to pause. To notice. To just be.
What if presence—not productivity—was the most powerful creative act of all?
© Alana Foy 2025

