Don’t Waste the Pause
What a one-hour workshop unexpectedly taught me about fear, connection, and transformation
For months, I found myself thinking deeply about a one-hour Zoom workshop I was scheduled to lead for 100 women leaders.
You would think that after 40 years of coaching executives, this kind of thing would feel easy by now.
The pressure was not coming from my client.
It was coming from me.
I wanted to offer something that would make a real difference. I did not want to deliver a pleasant hour of “good content.” I wanted the experience to matter. I wanted depth. Real value. Something meaningful enough that people would leave feeling seen, encouraged, and moved forward in some way.
But there was one problem.
How exactly do you create meaningful transformation on a one-hour Zoom call with 100 busy leaders?
I strained over it from the moment I agreed to do it.
Have you ever committed to something important and then quietly wondered whether you were truly capable of carrying it well?
As the workshop got closer, I went into overdrive. I researched. Took notes. Deleted notes. Asked trusted friends for ideas. Prayed. Opened my laptop. Closed it. Reopened it hoping the Holy Spirit and ChatGPT had collaborated while I was gone.
Fear Narrows Us
Eventually I recognized something important:
I was not stuck because I lacked ideas.
Fear had quietly taken up too much space.
Fear has a way of shrinking creativity. It narrows your vision until all you can see is the possibility of failure. You become outcome-focused instead of people-focused. Performance-focused instead of present.
Once I realized that, something began to shift.
Not instantly. Not through some giant revelation.
Little by little.
As I kept praying, reflecting, and trying to center myself not on my fear, but on what these women might genuinely need.
That became the turning point.
The workshop itself was based on my Life As Art process — the idea that life is not merely something that happens to you. It is something you can create.
Early in the session, I shared a story from my own life. Years ago, early in my coaching career, my mentor closed her business and left town. Suddenly I was on my own — and absolutely not convinced I was ready to run a coaching business by myself.
There were failures along the way. Starts and stops. I sought out new mentors and pursued advanced training with determination. There was financial stress, moments of self-doubt, and times I wanted to quit.
Little by little, I built a coaching practice that has now lasted 40 years.
That experience taught me something I still believe deeply:
Sometimes our greatest struggles become the very things that shape us into who we are becoming.
Or as I told the group:
Your Barrier Is Information
Your barriers are not your enemy. They are information.
We explored the barriers that often stop people from pursuing meaningful goals: perfectionism, overwhelm, fear, procrastination, uncertainty.
I shared that some barriers once protected us. But eventually protective patterns can become limiting ones — like an overgrown plant in too small a pot.
One example we explored was perfectionism.
The perfectionist often believes:
“I need to figure everything out before I begin.”
A healthier reframe might be:
“I can focus on the process, not just the outcome.”
We also talked about Agency — the ability to act, make wise choices, and operate from a place of personal responsibility rather than helplessness.
I shared honestly that while I had strong agency in building my business, there were seasons in my former marriage where I felt reactive, angry, helpless, and stuck. Sometimes barriers trigger old fears so deeply that we temporarily lose access to our strength and clarity.
And then something happened during the workshop that genuinely surprised me.
Permission to Pause
After some quiet reflection exercises, we placed the women into breakout groups of three with simple instructions:
No fixing.
No interrupting.
No advice-giving.
Just listen.
Each person had two minutes to share whatever they felt comfortable sharing — their goals, struggles, fears, or simply what they noticed about themselves during the reflection.
Honestly, I assumed most people would stay fairly guarded.
Instead, vulnerability filled the room.
These women showed up with remarkable honesty and courage.
When we returned to the larger group, several women immediately volunteered to share deeply personal reflections in front of everyone. Others filled the chat with honest admissions about exhaustion, fear, hope, uncertainty, and longing.
You could feel it.
Not perfection.
Not polished leadership.
Presence.
Humanity.
Relief.
Connection.
And that was the moment I realized something important:
The deepest value of the session was not simply the content I delivered.
It was the permission to pause.
To stop performing for a moment.
To reconnect with themselves.
To discover they were not alone in their struggles.
To realize their fears, barriers, and imperfections did not disqualify them from growth or leadership.
I left the session unexpectedly energized.
Hopeful, even.
Not because I had delivered the perfect workshop.
But because I witnessed something we desperately need more of right now:
Human beings telling the truth.
Listening deeply.
Encouraging one another.
And remembering that growth rarely happens in isolation.
Don’t Waste the Pause
I think this is one of the great invitations hidden inside pauses — whether it’s Memorial Day weekend, a retreat, a reflective conversation, or simply five quiet minutes before rushing into another meeting.
Don’t waste the pause.
The pause is often where clarity begins.
The pause is where fear softens enough for creativity to return.
The pause is where we remember what matters.
And sometimes, the pause is where we finally discover we are not nearly as alone as we thought.
As we closed the workshop, I encouraged the women to focus on the ONE thing they most wanted to pursue and to ask another person or two to support them over the next few months.
I do not know how many will actually do it.
But I know this:
I needed that reminder too.
And perhaps that is another beautiful truth about leadership.
Sometimes the people we hope to encourage end up encouraging us right back.