
I look at everyone as if each person has experienced some form of trauma. In truth, most of us have. We have all lived through COVID, are constantly bombarded by 24/7 news cycles, and carry personal wounds that sometimes feel less significant against the backdrop of the world’s pain.
What would happen if, instead of rushing through interactions with a quick “Are you okay?” followed by an automatic “Yeah, I’m okay too,” we learned to pause? What if we allowed a real conversation to unfold, letting threads of connection weave between us and someone else?

In the pause, there is opportunity for connection, reflection, and quiet grace.
Often, we don’t know others are suffering until we ask and then give them space to land softly with their feelings. These moments can happen anywhere: in a coffee shop, in line at the post office, at the grocery store. It is often the simple act of letting someone feel seen and heard that makes the greatest impact.
Sometimes, it is the moments between strangers that are remembered the most.

As a young mother, I landed at JFK Airport late at night with my daughter after flying 3,000 miles, excited to surprise my parents. It was 11 p.m. The ride my friend had promised to arrange never came; she had simply forgotten. A wave of anger, fear, and hopelessness washed over me. I didn’t want to call my parents and admit that I needed them to rescue us, that I hadn’t planned well, that I didn’t have enough cash in my wallet. But the truth was, I hadn’t arranged everything as carefully as I should have. I felt scared and stuck.
Standing in the terminal, I felt stranded and small. Tears streamed down my face as I pushed my daughter in her stroller, grateful she couldn’t see me breaking.
And then, someone paused.
A woman noticed me, stopped what she was doing, and approached. She didn’t rush by, and she didn’t avert her eyes. She paused long enough to truly see me. She asked gently, “Are you okay?”
In that moment, I felt safe saying, “No, I am not okay.” She was about the same age as my own mother, and in her gaze, I felt held and seen.
That single pause opened the door for everything that followed. I explained that my ride hadn’t shown up, I didn’t have cash for a cab, and I didn’t know what to do.
She didn’t try to fix me or chastise me. She saw a young mom and her daughter wanting to see family, and that value must have spoken to her heart. Her way of helping was simple and profound: she made sure we could get home safely.
I thanked her for her kindness and asked if I could mail her a check to repay her. She said no. She only wanted us to get home.
I hugged her before gathering my daughter and our luggage to find a taxi. Her pause, her presence, and her quiet act of care carried us the rest of the way.
The power in the pause is simple. It is choosing to look up. To notice. To give a moment of presence that can change someone’s night or even their life.
I encourage each of you to pause in at least one conversation a day. When you hear “I’m fine,” gently ask, “Are you really fine? It’s okay if you aren’t. I’m here if you need a safe listening ear.”
Sometimes, all someone needs is a space to be heard. No fixing. No changing. Just listening.
When we pause and choose to stand beside someone, even for a moment, we create a kind of quiet harmony, the same spirit carried in the familiar words of the song “Stand by Me.”
This reflection pairs with “Stand By Me” by Ben E. King — a timeless song that echoes the strength found in standing beside one another. Its familiar rhythm and heartfelt lyrics remind me how presence, even in quiet moments, can bridge fear and create safety.
💌 From My Heart
If this story spoke to you, I’d love to hear: when have you experienced the power of a pause? Was there a moment when someone noticed you, stood by you, or simply listened when you needed it most? Or perhaps you were the one who paused for someone else.
Please click the heart, leave a comment, or share this piece. It helps me know that these reflections on presence, listening, and quiet acts of care are not only meaningful for me, but may also resonate with you.
Together, each pause becomes like a thread in a larger tapestry weaving moments of safety, grace, and connection that shape the stories we carry forward.
With gratitude,
Chellie 🩷
Chellie Grossman is a Certified Life Coach, Keynote Speaker, and Writer who empowers leaders to reclaim their voice, embrace their strength, and lead with authenticity and purpose.