O.L.M.E.
The Power of Pause

Pausing can feel like falling behind. There’s always something next—a deadline, a scroll, a notification, a plan. For teenagers, whose lives are full of transitions, decisions, and expectations, the pressure to keep going is especially intense.

But sometimes, what young people need most isn’t motivation.

It’s a moment.

A moment to stop. To feel. To ask, What’s really going on inside me right now?

In the One Life Many Endings project, we call this an emotional check-in. A simple but powerful practice that helps teens notice, name, and navigate their inner experience—especially during times of change, uncertainty, or endings.

Because here’s the truth: many young people don’t lack emotional depth. They lack permission to engage with it.

They’re told to stay strong, to keep up, to “get over it.” When a friendship ends, they’re expected to move on. When a routine changes, they’re told to adapt. When a plan falls apart, the focus shifts to finding Plan B. Rarely are they given space to just feel what’s happening.

But when we skip that step—when we move straight from change to action without pausing—we risk emotional disconnection. Feelings get buried. Anxiety creeps in. Denial takes over. And unresolved emotions don’t disappear. They show up later—as irritability, numbness, burnout, or breakdowns.

That’s why the pause matters.

Emotional check-ins aren’t about over-analyzing every feeling. They’re about making space. A few quiet minutes to notice: Am I sad? Anxious? Excited? Confused? All of the above? None of the above? What’s happening in my body? Where is my attention? What do I need?

These questions are simple. But they shift everything.

When young people learn to pause and check in, they build self-awareness. They catch emotions before they spiral. They learn that feelings aren’t problems—they’re information. Signals. Clues to what matters.

And like any skill, this one grows with practice.

Some teens might benefit from daily check-in routines. A short journaling moment before bed. A colour-coded emotion tracker. A one-word self-scan at the start of class or group meetings. Others may prefer conversation—naming their emotions in a small circle or with a trusted adult. Some may need creative outlets: drawing, music, or movement as a way to reflect.

There’s no one right way to pause. What matters is building a habit of turning inward—even for just a moment.

In our workshops, we’ve seen the impact. A group of teens starting each session by checking in with a simple “weather report” of how they feel—sunny, stormy, foggy—begins to normalize emotional expression. One participant said, “It felt weird at first, but now I notice stuff I didn’t before. Like, I didn’t even realise I was overwhelmed until I heard myself say it out loud.”

These moments of honesty don’t just help individuals—they transform group dynamics. When teens are emotionally present, they relate to others with more empathy, more clarity, and less judgment.

And during endings—of projects, relationships, or phases of life—this self-awareness becomes crucial. Pausing allows space to process loss, to notice gratitude, to honour what’s shifting. Without that pause, young people may carry invisible grief or shame without ever knowing why.

Teaching emotional check-ins isn’t about making teens more sensitive—it’s about making them more equipped. It helps them regulate rather than react, express rather than explode, reflect rather than suppress.

It also builds trust. When adults model this practice—saying “I’m feeling tense today, and I’m giving myself a moment to breathe”—they show that emotions are not something to hide. They’re human.

In a culture that rewards speed and surface, pausing becomes a radical act.

And in youth development, it becomes a protective tool—against burnout, against disconnection, against the fear that no one really sees what they’re going through.

So let’s teach young people to pause. Not as a luxury, but as a life skill.

Because in that moment of stillness—before the next task, the next text, the next transition—they find something powerful:

Themselves.