The Space between If and Then

We are much like a computer program.

Somewhere along the way, through what we were taught, what we experienced, and what we came to believe, lines of code were written within us:

If this happens, then feel this.

If you feel this, then do that.

If someone speaks to you this way, become defensive.

If something becomes difficult, become irritated.

If you might fail, do not begin.

And just like a computer, when the right command is entered, the program runs.

A circumstance becomes the input.

An emotion rises.

A familiar behavior follows.

We may believe we are consciously choosing our response, when often we are simply producing the output our programming has always produced.

But unlike a computer, we can become aware that the program is running.

That awareness is the interruption.

A breath.

A pause.

Stepping outside.

Feeling our feet against the earth.

Taking one moment before completing the familiar sequence.

In that moment, the program is suspended.

The circumstance has occurred, but the programmed response has not yet taken control. There is now a space between the if and the then—and inside that space, there is choice.

We can follow the old command.

Or we can write a new one.

If this happens, then I will pause.

If irritation rises, then I will breathe.

If fear appears, then I will listen before allowing it to decide.

The old programming may still be there. It may still begin running automatically. But awareness allows us to interrupt it, examine it, and choose whether it still belongs in the life we are creating.

You are not the program.

You are the one who can see it running.

And the breath is the space where you remember that you can change the code.