Permission to Pause

As the holiday break fades from memory, many of us are stepping back into inboxes, meetings, and the familiar pull to “circle back” to the work we intentionally set down at the end of the year. The transition can feel abrupt — even chaotic — as the pace picks up faster than our bodies and spirits are ready for.

This week’s teaching from George feels especially timely. It’s a reminder that rest is not something we leave behind when the calendar turns, and that stillness has a place alongside movement. His words invite us to slow our steps, to move with intention, and to remember that how we return to our work matters just as much as the work itself.

I’m grateful to share George’s reflection with you today.

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On December 11th, I had the opportunity to be in Langley at the Wellness Den for CheckingIn’s year end social. This is a place that holds a special place in my heart, not only because of the work that happens there, but because of the people who live on that land and the relationships that continue to grow there. Being in that space, alongside our team always feels grounding and reminds me of the importance of gathering in good ways, especially as we move toward the close of a year.

One of those relationships is with Tyrell Mara, someone I met through my dear friend and colleague Sean Burke. Sean and Ty share a close friendship, and through Sean, Ty and I have grown connected over the years in a quiet and meaningful way. We often send each other messages filled with care, encouragement, and love, checking in on one another as human beings first. During my visit, I gifted Ty a smudge spray and some sweetgrass for his own wellness practices. As I went to purchase some candles and prepare to say goodbye, we found ourselves slowing down and sharing a heart to heart conversation that felt both timely and needed.

Ty handed me a tote bag and asked me to promise that I would read what was written on it before accepting it and, more importantly, that I would live by its message. On the outside of the bag, written in big, bold letters, were the words “permission to pause.” Ty shared that he notices how busy I am, especially on social media, and that he could only imagine that what is visible is just a small part of everything I carry. His words were offered without judgment and with deep care, encouraging me to truly give myself space to slow down and rest over the holiday break. I agreed, recognizing that this was not just a gift, but a teaching.

Before I left, Ty asked me to check the inside pocket of the bag. Inside was a smooth, flat black rock that he had carried with him for many years. He told me the rock was special to him and that for reasons he could not fully explain, he felt called to pass it on that day. He shared that he felt I was the right person to receive it and asked me to carry it as a reminder to stay grounded, especially during times of movement, responsibility, and growth.

As I moved through the holiday break, I returned to those teachings often. I thought about our ancestors and the way they moved across our territories with intention, patience, and care. Travel took time and effort, and rest was never a sign of weakness, but something necessary for balance and survival. Villages were placed where people could pause, restore themselves, share stories, and prepare for what came next. Movement and stillness existed together, each giving meaning to the other.

Today, Ty’s rock sits on my desk as I write this, reminding me to stay grounded in all the work that I do and in the responsibilities I carry. My hope is that each of you were able to find moments of rest and grounding over the holiday break. I am grateful to share that I kept my promise to Ty and truly gave myself permission to pause over the holiday break. I step into this new year feeling rested, grounded, and ready to move forward together, carrying these teachings with me.

Huy ch q’u | Thank you

Wholwolet’za | George Harris Jr

George’s words feel like a quiet invitation as we return to our responsibilities — to resist the urge to rush, and instead ask ourselves what it might look like to move forward with care, steadiness, and intention.

Before closing, we also want to take a moment to thank those of you who shared feedback through our community survey last week. We’re grateful for the honesty, care, and time people offered. What we heard clearly was a desire for greater clarity around our membership, and how to participate in ways that feel accessible and aligned.

In response, we’re taking a few steps forward. We will soon be introducing an Annual Workshop Pass, offered on a sliding scale, grounded in trust. We trust people to choose the amount that feels right for their current circumstances, without explanation or justification. Sliding scale pricing is one way we try to honour the reality that access, income, and institutional support are not evenly distributed, while still sustaining this work in good ways.

We’re also committing to developing clearer resources that better articulate what is included in our membership, using plain language and transparency, so people can more easily understand what it offers and how community funding supports this work.

As we move into this new year, we’re carrying George’s teaching with us as a guide. The work will still be here. The relationships will still matter. And we are better able to show up — for ourselves and for one another — when we honour the rhythm between movement and pause.

May this teaching meet you where you are today, offering permission to breathe, to ground yourself, and to move forward in a way that feels steady and true.

In learning,

Kim at Culturally Committed