Unless you’re a heart surgeon on the cusp of transplantation with minutes to spare, there are very few things that can’t wait. For just a little bit longer. During savasana in a recent yoga practice, our guide invited us to stay for five more breaths when we felt the urge to get up off the mat.

Oh, I felt the urge, all right.

In my mind, I had already crossed yoga off the list and was on to the next thing. But when I heard her words, I settled back into my body and decided to allow my mind to scan what I would normally do in the time five breaths would take. The past showed me that I would get up at the first chance I could, grab my mat, keys and bag as silently as possible, and would climb over the resting, blissed-out bodies, more than likely turning on my iPhone before I’d left the room. Because, y’know, knowing who might have tried to reach me in that 75 minute period is just THAT critical. I’d make my way downstairs with one eye on the infuriating loading screen, impatient for the wait. And then, I’d allow myself to get agitated if there were tons of emails, texts and calls, or, more likely, agitated if there weren’t.

So, I rested for five more breaths. And then another five. Integrating the gorgeous work I’d just done on the mat.

Whatever IT is, it can wait.

It can wait. It can wait. It can wait.

I recently heard a Tech Exec speak about our love affair with our devices. She reported that in a recent study of smartphone users, 51% of people sleep with their phones next to their beds and 27% of people lose two hours of sleep to the device.


Now, this post isn’t about the evils of the smartphone (besides, Louis CK did a way better job than I ever could, underscoring our fears of being alone.) It’s about our complete and utter ability to be HERE. NOW.

Yes. You’re busy. Your life is full. You have many obligations and commitments and people and jobs and things on the list. Even right now, as you read this post, you’re aware of the four other things you could be doing. (And bless you for staying here, with my words. Truly, thank you. I intend for it to be worth your while. Onward.)

The reality is…

Whatever IT is, it can wait while you:: watch the sunset until it’s disappeared; offer one more heartfelt “I love you”, and then another; pull over to allow the emergency vehicle to pass (it’s headed somewhere for more important than you are…guaranteed); snuggle your child back to sleep after a haunting nightmare; chew your food properly; hear, really HEAR the music; dare to ACTUALLY connect with the person you’re speaking to; take the scenic route; and, enjoy 5 more breath…right here, right now.

Shortcuts can erode the fullness of our experience. twitter-bird-tiny-blue

It can wait. Pressing send, publish or reply will not alter the fate of humanity. You’re not that important (nor am I).

That’s good news.

And if you’re not sure where you’re going to find all this extra time for breathing and hugging and watching and loving and being here? Start to notice the mindless actions and words that do not serve your higher good. Seinfeld reruns. “Sorry's”. (When I started to become aware of my unconscious apologies, I calculated that I’ve lost 42 days of my life to unconscious “sorrys”. Over it.)

Make time for the conscious by taking time from the unconscious. twitter-bird-tiny-blue

Take five more breaths. Because. It can wait. It can wait. It can wait.