The Deliberate Pause
When The Cultivated Life Requires The Cultivated Space
Evening. A glass of Campari and soda on the surface of a glass coffee table set in a square wooden frame. A hum of YouTube playlist that started with Jerry Mulligan — and then followed by whatever the algorithm associated with it — played from the AUX port of a vintage Bang & Olufsen Beocenter 3500. And then there is me, sitting in a lounge chair, staring out of the window, doing nothing.
“Guilt. I felt very guilty doing this.”
That was the first form of thought that occurred whenever I tried to break out from the dynamic of endless work-stream that drives me all the time. I have come to realise that the creative-professional kind of career is both a gift and, in its own way, a curse. On the gifted side, you automatically notice that the value of your work is detached from sheer volume — as long as the idea is sharp and the execution justifies the idea, the work is done right.
But the same essence comes with the fact that your brain is the engine of everything. And it is likely to run all the time, from the moment you wake up.
The thing is, when I finish one objective my brain has set out to solve, another problem is already waiting in the unconscious — and, as you can guess, in the modern world of hyper-stimulation and constant connection, it becomes a never-ending spiral of ideas to tackle. Some of them productive. Most of them miscellaneous, leading nowhere but to another spike of Dopamine.
The solution I have found, however, is environment.
I had heard before that changing environment plays a huge difference in one’s state of mind. I had always assumed this meant geographic change — moving from city to city, the way I have done across a single year of travel. What I had never noticed was that it also applies to the very same room.
My apartment is fifty-six square metres. Four rooms.
The living room is the one I rarely entered.
Imagine an evening. Dusk arrived. Most of the time — if I was not working till that hour — I would doing the flâneur ritual; dress in my evening attire, take a transport to a niche bar, see people, or call a friend and end up in his place.
But when I began to dive into the world of design — learning the classic pieces of Eames and Saarinen, even the gadget world of Bang & Olufsen — I started putting many of these vintage pieces into the very empty living room. Orchestrating them, slowly, into a sanctuary that serves only one function…
The Deliberate Pause: A place where all the wandering thoughts led by the endless stream of algorithmic society come to an end. Where one allows the mind to stop at the moment. Where one embraces only the present.
At first, the guilty feeling will still happen. You will experience the frustration of asking: Is there not a better thing to be doing than this? Shouldn’t I go out? Shouldn’t I work more?
But trust me — within a curated space, one filled with objects that are well-designed, well-crafted, well-functioning; art pieces that evoke something in your soul; perhaps a drink as companion, a good book, or even nothing in your hand — just sitting still, observing your own thought, seeing what emerges without immediately jumping to do something else…
To actually pause between the long, long day. It is the hardest practice. And it is more essential than ever.
Especially in a world where the space and the time to do so are becoming less and less.