The Pause Between Notes: The Power of Pausing

Daniela Goes-Udoff
Sep 12
4 min read

Updated: Oct 27

The Neuroscience of pausing: how rest rewires your brain

Here’s the science: when you stop doing, your brain’s Default Mode Network (DMN) switches on. That’s the circuit that stitches memories together, makes sense of your day, sparks insight.

No pause = no integration.

It’s like writing pages in a book without spaces. Eventually the reader (your nervous system) just gives up. Or simpler: imagine never hitting “save” on your laptop. That’s what a life without pause does — it crashes.

What is the Default Mode Network (DMN)?

Think of it as the orchestra’s rehearsal room.

It’s not one instrument, but a whole section of your brain, regions like the posterior cingulate cortex and medial prefrontal cortex.

(Big words, I knooow… but trust me — once you get to know them, they’ll feel like your babies. You’ll want to treat them with care and love, because they’re the ones holding your story together.)

This is the network that lights up when you’re daydreaming, remembering, imagining your future. It’s your inner stage crew: stitching together memories, running rehearsals, weaving the storyline of your life behind the scenes.

That’s why silence isn’t empty. It’s where your brain does its most important work.

Science calls it neural consolidation. Life calls it perspective.

In fact, neuroscientists have shown that the Default Mode Network (DMN) is crucial for consolidating memories and integrating experiences. A 2012 study by Dr. Marcus Raichle and colleagues highlighted how the DMN “lights up” during rest, linking past, present, and future thinking.

And if you know me personally, you know this part is true: I’ve always been a huge fan of doing nothing. Literally nothing. No meditation, no productivity hack, no “optimizing.”

Just sitting on my couch, or in Central Park, or at the beach, breathing, smiling, watching the world goes by.

It feels like a gift. Like I’m being rewarded from “up there,” like the Creator is handing me a secret slice of joy.

My friends even laugh because I get so excited at bedtime. I’ll lay down, grin like a kid, and sometimes squeal out loud: “This is my favorite time!”

And I stand by it, because as Marthe Troly-Curtin wrote:

“Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.”

It’s not laziness. It’s restoration.

It’s the pause, and it’s where the music of life quietly re-tunes itself.

Why pausing feels uncomfortable

We confuse rest with laziness.

We avoid silence because it feels uncomfortable, too much room for the “what ifs,” the regrets, the grief we’ve buried.

But here’s the paradox: avoiding the pause only makes the noise louder.

It’s like covering your ears while the orchestra keeps playing, you don’t escape the sound, you just miss the beauty.

Pausing asks us to feel. And feeling, even the hard, messy parts, is the very thing that lets us heal.

Simple practices to add Pauses to your day

Let’s make this simple — pauses don’t have to look like a retreat in Bali.

They don’t require incense, chanting, or hours of silence. Though they help me a lot (personally, of course!).

Pauses are micro-rests. They’re moments your brain uses to file, reset, and re-tune. Start here:

● Between tasks: Before jumping to the next thing, close your eyes and take 60 seconds. One inhale, one exhale. That’s all. Let the system catch up.

● In your calendar: Block white space the same way you block meetings. Call it what it is — a meeting with your soul. I call mine: “Recalibration & Focus time.” And fun fact, I’ve always had it in my schedule, even when I was in corporate leadership. My team respected it, and honestly, your employer might even thank you for it.

● At night: Before your hand reaches for the phone, let your body sit in stillness for two minutes. Feel the bed hold you. Notice the little things in your room you’ve forgotten. Just observe them — no fixing, no judging. Let the day dissolve without a scroll.

Think of these pauses like commas in a sentence. They look small, almost invisible, yet they change the entire meaning. Without them, your life reads like a run-on sentence. With them, it becomes poetry.