You just have to appreciate a good pause, don’t you? Like the comma when you’re reading—it signals you to take a breath, make a little space between the phrases. Or the period—it guides you to take an even bigger pause. They help us to absorb the meaning of the written words.

And in music, a rest mark brings a welcome pause, too. It’s part of the experience. The rest is just as important as the notes played.

I experienced another kind of pause last week while visiting the Cheech Marin Center for Chicano Art & Culture of the Riverside Art Museum. The second-floor gallery exhibited the works of artist Carmen Lomas Garza: Picturing the Familiar.  I was mesmerized. I slowly wandered through the gallery and took it in. I absorbed it. At the end I sat in quiet and realized I was fortunate to have been there alone. I wasn’t discussing the art, I wasn’t analyzing it, I wasn’t calling anyone over to see this or that. I was only feeling it, and it touched me.

Afterwards, I had time to visit another gallery of the museum, but I chose not to. I was very much aware that I wanted to just pause and give this collection my full heart and attention. I needed time to let it marinade, to fill me fully. I gave it space.

It made me think of how often we just run from one activity to another to another to another, always pushing ahead as if it’s a noble thing to keep busy. It taught me to take a break and appreciate what’s at hand. Then as I moved to what was next for me, I continued with a deep peace and sense of gratitiude. It carried me right into being inducted into the California Library Hall of Fame that evening. I floated in “pause mode” the following three days. I think I absorbed a lot because this week, I’m still feeling the soft joy of both the museum visit and the library event.

Pause. Take a moment to absorb the moment, especially when it’s so meaningful.