Saturday, April 18, 2020

The moment

I could look at these for many
many moments.
I'm reading a lot lately about this place we're all trying to get into like a covered bus stop in the rain which is: 

The moment.

Stay in the moment.
Be in the moment. 

There’s not much to say about the moment, it’s where we always are. But until now, it wasn't a place where we lingered, for the pull of next week, next month, and so on. 

Now that we're faced with so much "right now," we are getting a lot of advice on getting there, or more accurately, staying there.

In the moment.

The moment is not a big place.
It’s where you meet up with your senses.
What you smell, hear, taste, feel, and see.
There’s not really a lot else going on.

Except for feelings.
Surprise, irritation, anxiety, wonder, inspiration, relief, joy,

And reactions.
Gasps and tears and laughter and sighs – of wonder, of grief, of amazement.

In the moment of now is where a song, a smell, a sound can drop you into a sweet moment of then.  I heard a black-capped chickadee last week and I was ten again, riding my pink stingray all over the world of my neighborhood.  

In a moment is where a look may cross a child’s face that wasn’t there before and make you realize how much there is to know about her.

In a moment, you might look around at your surroundings and think, I could make this all look better.

Or, you may look around at this place where you chose to live and think of all the other moments that happened here.

Maybe you brought a baby through that door for the first time. 
Maybe you walked your last college freshman through that door to a car that waited to go to the airport. 
Maybe you had a moment here when you decided what you were meant to do next.
Maybe you understood in another moment that all you need is in your life right now.

In a moment you may smell what you’ve made for dinner and think about what you’ll discuss tonight with your person.

In the moment is when an idea may run up to you and say, “Pick me! Let’s do this.”

You may become so overwhelmed with your luck and love in a moment that you don't want to move and startle the feeling away.  

A moment may hand you the gift of clarity on who you are, or would like to be, and damn it, will be, because when you are a deflated pool toy, some moments bring pumps.

In a moment that you didn’t ask for may be when you know the dog won’t make it, and pray the vet will come to you.

In a moment that you were afraid to hope for may be when you hear the words, “It was negative. You’re fine.”

It is in a moment that you see the first flakes of a first snowfall and might feel like a five-year-old.

I had a very large moment when I made the decision to stop writing and go back to work.

I had an extra-large moment when I went back to writing and got an email from a Washington Post editor that said, “I love it.”

It’s wonderful advice to be in the moment, and we know that we should try to stay there, but you know, life, right?

Plans.

Arrows of worry. I have to return that sweater today.  I forgot to schedule that call. I’ll need to reschedule that dinner. I didn’t book the ferry. What if it rains? What if I can’t go back to work? What if I get sick?

What if.
What if.
What if.

I’ve never been good at following instructions to be in the moment, or telling a moment what it should bring me because the moment is already here with its gift of information. You don’t have to execute a process to reach the moment or organize a moment’s contents.  

You just have to stop walking away from it.

We have no plans right now.
We have nothing but the moment right now.

While we have no choice, and while it’s free from the pull of plans for future moments, I wish all of us attunement without struggle. I wish all of us the fullest of feelings and reactions to the moments.  

They're not always very big, and they work so hard. 






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