When You Want the Practice to Be Over

You have followed the instructions. You are sitting where you meant to sit, or staying with a movement you chose. Then the question arrives: how much longer?

Perhaps you glance at the clock. Perhaps you begin planning what comes afterwards. You may also start judging the practice, or yourself, because you expected to feel more settled by now.

In a recent Between Signals essay, I reflected on an AI-guided breathing space I had built. One question stayed with me beyond the technology: what happens when someone completes a practice while wishing away most of it?

I also recalled a teacher's invitation during a long hold in training: notice how much you want this to be over. The invitation made room for something that could otherwise pass as a failed attempt to concentrate.

Notice the wish to skip ahead

Wanting the next thing can become part of what you notice. You can acknowledge it in ordinary words: I am waiting for this to finish. I am wondering whether I am doing it properly. I would rather be somewhere else.

You can leave that description there for a moment. There is no need to decide immediately what it says about you, or to turn it into another task to perform well.

The same wish may be familiar outside a class: waiting in a queue, listening to the end of an answer, looking ahead to the weekend. These are possible places to notice a habit, each with its own circumstances. A meeting that needs to end and a quiet moment you keep rushing past deserve their own judgment.

Keep your choices available

In practice, the next step can be a question. Am I impatient, unclear about the instruction, or needing to change something? What would help me decide?

You can notice the wish to leave and still open your eyes, change position, ask for an alternative or finish. Staying curious includes listening to what you need. It can also include choosing to remain for another moment when that feels appropriate.

For someone returning to practice after a break, having these choices explained beforehand can matter. Ask how to pause or ask a question. A clear answer gives you something practical to work with when the moment arrives.

Make room for a conversation

A recording can offer a structure. A teacher in the room can also ask a question and respond to the answer. That exchange is useful only when there is room for the participant's experience to differ from the plan.

Quietness alone leaves a teacher with much to learn. Someone may be following closely, feeling unsure or simply ready to change position. An invitation such as “Would another option help?” gives the person a way to say.

This connects with the question in Why Would Anyone Come Back?: does the person learning feel able to take part in the conversation?

As Zenotal's Halifax studio takes shape, I am bringing these questions to the planning of slow movement and restorative practice. What helps someone understand the invitation? How can a teacher check what is happening? Where can a participant make a choice?

If you are considering a practice, start with one moment you recognize: the glance at the clock, the wish to move on, the question you have kept to yourself. What would you like to understand about it? You are welcome to write to me.