As a kid, I did everything within my power to make sure that we got to have a movie night a few times a week. All of the homework had to be done before a certain time (mom, was it 7 or 8 pm? Cuz I know you’re going to read this) and showers completed too AND in pajamas. IF everything was done according to mom and dad standard (and let’s be honest it was the mom standard really), we could watch a movie.
We three kids landed on the couch, and we were ready to go.
Sometimes, we got popcorn.
The electrical popper would whir to life, and then the staccato pops prickled the air with promises of butter and salt. But we had to eat our wooden bowls of popcorn at the table. Ah, well.
The Disney introduction to the film has to be the music of my childhood. And I know that nostalgia will last long into my adulthood. I’ll be bent-over, and hear that tune and straighten up with a toothless grin.
Movies tended to be a family event so my parents would sit with us on the couch or drag another chair over. And mom always had the remote.
We kids would be swept right into the story, whether cartoon or real life. It didn’t matter. In fact, my kid brother broke one of my most favorite toys right in front of me once while I was watching the tv because I was so engrossed in the story.
But, inevitably, mid-story, my mom would pause the movie. YES. RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE.
“MOmmmmmmmmm.” But we knew better than to really ramp up our whining. We learned that the hard way the first time (Short story: Loud whining ensued. Mom ended the movie watching).
Then, with the actors frozen mid-story with the most ridiculous looks on their faces, my mom would ask us questions about the story. She forced us question what we were seeing, the decisions the characters were making, and what we would do differently.
Oh, man. I hated it. My siblings hated it.
But if we complained, we were done watching the movie. And no one kid wanted that. So we gritted our teeth, and we answered her questions and breathed a sigh of relief when she hit play again.
As an adult, I rethink those moments, and I still groan. Because ugh, I hate when a story gets interrupted in the middle. Like, just let me enjoy the story, and we can be analytical after. Please and thank you.
And yet, this week, I started to realize something about my mom’s annoying tactic of pausing the movie right in the middle.
We have the power to hit pause in our own lives (most of the time) to take a moment to consider what’s happening. And that pause coupled with the right questions can help us figure out how to respond to whatever circumstance we’re facing.
Sometimes hitting pause means scheduling a full day of nothing. Sometimes hitting pause means canceling an appointment or class so you can have an extra hour. Sometimes it means changing your schedule completely for a day or a week.
And in that pause of your speedy regular, you make discoveries. You refocus. And then, you can change direction.
So I’ll still light you on fire if you pause a movie just to quiz me mid-story about the character’s choices and such, but I think it’s important for my life to know that I can take a pause and reevaluate what’s happening.
So hit that pause button! And check in with yourself.
Leave a Reply