I don’t know why it bothered me so much, but it did.
I was devastated to learn the period – the most popular punctuation symbol known to humankind – is becoming obsolete.
According to the disturbing article, the rise of instant messaging has made it “unnecessary” to use a period to mark the end of a thought or statement.
Life is just becoming one long run sentence…
Yep, that sounds about right.
Life is just a steady stream of information, pauses optional…
Yes, I feel that – and it concerns me.
One of my most vivid childhood memories involves reading aloud for the first time in my new fourth grade classroom. After proudly completing my section, the teacher said I didn’t pause long enough for the periods.
“When you see a period, take a breath,” Ms. Murray instructed. “Otherwise, it all runs together and doesn’t make sense.”
Feeling both embarrassed and enlightened, the lesson stuck with me indefinitely. Recently, while narrating the audio version of my new book and the pre-order bonus gift, I was especially mindful of periods – not just the ones at the end of sentences, but also the ones that appeared during the recordings.
In both sessions, the production team had at least one young man. While they were adjusting sound levels and overseeing the process, they were listening to the content.
“I am really intrigued by what you said about inner voice,” one of them said as we reconvened after lunch. “I think the technique you shared is really going to help me be less self-critical.”
While taking a short break during the recording of my pre-order bonus gift, the sound engineer shared something similar about his struggle with self-doubt.
“Do you mind if I keep this?” he said, pointing to the script I’d given him to follow along. “I’d like to give this a try at home.”
In both instances, we spent a good ten minutes talking about worthiness. Keep in mind, these discussions didn’t happen after the recordings wrapped up – they happened in the midst of them.
In terms of our productivity, those were not ideal times to have deep conversations – but in terms of our humanity, they were perfect.
I couldn't help but notice the comforting shift in the atmosphere of the room after the sound engineers had a chance to openly share their struggles.
It was just a period, but it made all the difference.
A few years back, I befriended an elderly cashier during a meaningful checkout counter exchange at my local grocery store. She is retired now, and serious health issues have left her face permanently disfigured. For months, I’d drop off baked goods, flowers, and cards at her front door, respecting her wish to wait until her scars healed to have a personal visit.
The last time I dropped by, she opened the door a crack.
“Can you come visit with me, darling?” my friend said.
When she opened the door so I could come inside, I saw that her head was wrapped in bandages where part of her face had been removed.
“Look at me,” she said, starting to cry.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, reaching for her hand.
My friend pulled me towards a small sitting area next to the front window. Judging by the worn blanket covering one of the chairs and the photos propped up beside it, this was her homebase.
I listened as she described the ordeal she’d been through and the dismal prognosis.
“But you are here,” she exclaimed, wrapping her small, weathered hands around mine.
The photo of her younger self was prominently displayed next to her chair, causing me to wonder what internal messages she was giving to herself these days.
“Do you remember how we met?” I blurted out. “On one of my hardest days, you came around the checkout counter and hugged me. And at one time or another, you did for all your customers,” I reminded her. “Your heart is one of the most beautiful hearts of anyone I know.”
“Oh darling,” she laughed, creating an unmistakable twinkle in her eye. “I can’t tell you what this means to me!”
It was just a period, but it made all the difference.
My 16-year-old daughter was getting ready for school the other day, and I checked in with her through the closed bedroom door. Her voice was stressed, and she was having trouble finding something she felt comfortable in.
“What can I do to help?” was met with “nothing,” so I told her I’d be downstairs if she thought of anything I could do.
When she came down fifteen minutes later looking defeated, I asked if I could give her a hug.
She nodded, and once in my embrace, she stood there for several minutes just holding on.
I held her until the tears eased.
She exhaled. Fully exhaled. And then she explained what was bothering her.
It was just a period, but it made all the difference.
On my recent birthday, my friend and literary agent, Sandra, sent me a ladybug sun catcher. In my new book, the ladybug holds special meaning, and Sandra wanted me to have a visual reminder of that significance.
Instead of placing it in my window, I hung it on my car rearview mirror. When the sun is shining, I stay parked for a moment and give the strand of beads a gentle nudge. When it catches the light, my body is bathed in a hundred little golden dots. I name three things I am grateful for and somehow always feel better when I start the car.
It is just a period but it makes all the difference—
a break in the frenzy of our ever-turning world
an acknowledgment of our human need to connect our dots
a pushback in the glorification of burnout and breath holding
I am not a fan of football, but I happened to be watching the Bengals play the Bills when Damar Hamlin collapsed on the field. I watched in awe as the game stopped, the world stopped, to send him blessings and well wishes. It was the first time in NFL history that a game started, was postponed, and never resumed.
And the more I think about it now, I think maybe that article is wrong; maybe the period is not becoming obsolete—not if we keep fighting for the pauses that honor our humanity.
Opportunities to breathe are here, right under our noses, in our kitchens, in our conversations, in our bodies, in our pastimes.
There are opportunities right here, right now, to put punctuation back into our everyday lives.
“When you see a period, take a breath,” my teacher once said. “Otherwise, everything runs together and doesn’t make sense.”
There is a reason I have not forgotten this lesson. I believe it was planted all those years ago to bloom at a time such as this.
It is just a period – but it can make all the difference in the world.
My friends, I am delighted to share the audio version of Soul Shift that made such an impression on the sound engineer is now available wherever you buy your audio books, including Audible. Also, the pre-order bonus gift that the production assistant took home with him is also available as part of the Self-Compassion Starter Kit. This kit is FREE with the pre-order of Soul Shift and includes an 8’’ X 10’’ hand-lettered affirmation poster custom designed by JZ Lettering and a 20-piece collection of soundtracks to Practice Being Kind to Yourself, written and narrated by me.
Simply go to the Soul Shift book page and input your name and receipt number in the form. If you have not yet had a chance to pre-order, you will find a list of retailers there – everything from independent bookstores to large retailers to signed copies!
Friends, the reason I poured so much time, heart, and energy into creating this bonus gift is because those who pre-order my books are my people, and YOU make all the difference.
My hand in yours.
Thank you for this. We need to pause more in our life. And, the period needs to be preserved as an important part of language and literature.