In the Quiet Between: 💙Honoring the Space Between Movements

A reflection on the sacred pause, when nothing is clear—yet everything is quietly becoming.

There’s a particular space I’ve come to recognize in many of you who I walk with—and in myself.

It’s not a time of clear answers or fast momentum.

It’s not a breakdown, or a breakthrough—at least not yet.

It’s something quieter, deeper, more mysterious.

It’s what I call the space between movements.

This space often arrives unannounced. It’s where you are no longer who you were, but not yet who you’re becoming. It can feel disorienting, uncertain, even heavy. There’s no obvious instruction, only the subtle hum of something rearranging inside you.

And here’s what I’ve noticed:

Most people feel like they’re “doing something wrong” when they land in this space.

We'll want to fix it, name it, move through it. Fast.

But something sacred is happening in this pause. Something the mind can’t rush and the soul doesn’t want to.

Over time, I’ve realized that part of my role—perhaps the quietest and most sacred part—is simply to stabilize the space between.

To keep it safe.

To not fill it with noise or answers.

To let the mystery breathe.

I do not demand movement—only stillness.

And in most sessions, I gently remind: stay.

Stay with what is here, even if it’s unclear.

Stay, because the wisdom will arrive in the stillness, not in the rushing.

My presence alone, I’ve been told, becomes coherent with your nervous system—not because of anything I “do,” but simply because I honor the inner pause with you.

And in that shared presence, something begins to settle, soften, and slowly re-aligns.

This isn’t something I was taught in a textbook or training.

It’s a way I was divinely shown—to allow the energy its space to reweave, to reorganize, to recalibrate.

To honor the intelligence within the pause, and not interfere with its timing.

So if you are in that space right now—between endings and beginnings, between clarity and the unknown—I offer you this:

STAY with Breathe

You are not stuck.

You are in the space between movements.

Something within you is quietly reorganizing.

And in this pause, you are safe, held, and already becoming.

Let this moment be what it is:

Not a problem to solve, but a moment to honor.

And I can, and will hold that space with you—gently, faithfully, without needing you to “figure it out”— I consider it a deep honor.

Much love,

Pauline 🌟