Now; Until It Sticks To My Bones

"I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.

Philippians 4:12

Paul was unto something here. Learning to be content.

Notice he doesn't say happy; being the fleeting emotion that it is, who could base their life around that?

He says content. Or satisfied.

To be in the present. To be satisfied with the present.

These are the things God's been whispering to me lately. And I thought I was a master at this!

To live life! To not miss a moment! To breathe in the air deep, avoiding life comas at all costs!

But the truth is, I haven't been good at this. Not the way He wants me to be.

Perfect example of this with 'future' projection: Costa Rica.

The very moment I get there, dirty backpacked strapped to my shoulders and college friends by my side, enraptured by all that is around me...the first words out of my mouth? I can't wait to come back here.

Something is extremely wrong with that.

Here I am, surrounded by the now, and I'm already planning for the future.

There is the problem. And that's where some of us stay our whole lives. And we miss it.
(Future projection also looks a lot like...waiting for the floor to fall out from underneath you and always expecting something bad to happen. I believe anxiety literally has that definition. Thank you to my dear friend, Stacy, who reminded me that I will miss all the beautiful now moments if I'm always worried about something like that)

Perfect example of this with 'past' projection: School Without Walls.
I just visited my old school last week.
I realized I have been living in the past there, still.
And I have not fully been in the present with my new kids.
While I am blessed to have had that opportunity and I miss those kids very much, that season is over.
And if I don't wake up and enjoy what's in front of me now, Ill miss it.

I think part of this revelation comes from the new season I am in. A late 20-something year old.

It's here that life slows down. Up until this moment it has been all big events.

You're 16.

You're at prom.

You graduate high school.

You pick a college.

You're swallowed up by 4-5 years of college life.

You turn 21.

And then it spits you out. Full of adrenaline. Left to your own devices and expectations.

And that's where reality sinks in.

...sure you have the big '25'.

But this is life.

Day in, day out.

And the 'big events' are over.

I spent a large portion of my life planning the next 'big event'. And they were all plenty happy to present themselves. It was all about the next adventure or trip or get together. But at some point you have to ask yourself...what about now? Because eventually, it doesn't satisfy. Or it gets exhausting. Or it's not realistic. And you are left alone in the room with.... the 'now'.

Because at some point, now is the most important thing.

And the next string of moments might only be hundreds of 'nows'.

And somewhere along the way I thought to myself, 

'If I can't be content in the seemingly mundane now, will I ever be happy?'

And honestly, I don't think I would be. Could be.

Because to really appreciate the moment when it's not super exciting is hard.

It's a skill.

Someone today taught me that in order to stop your mind, while in a moment, from wandering to the past or rolling off into the future (anxiety.) you have to pause and focus on the senses.

What am I smelling?

What am I tasting?

What am I seeing?

What am I hearing?

What am I feeling (tangible)?

Sure it sounds foolish. But when fully engaged in this activity, your mind doesn't have time to weigh itself down by where you've come from or worry you about what's going to happen. You can only focus on the birds singing outside, the smell of your sheets scented with laundry soap, the feeling of down comforters under your skin, etc.

And this skill I will practice until I die.

I will fight against the battle for my 'now'.

Recently, I have started to fall in love with my back yard garden. And birds.

My boyfriend took me on this secret trail where 8 birds fed out of my hand.

What an incredible moment. And I realized every bird has a different song.

Before, it all sounded the same. Like birds.

Now, (and with the help of my bird whisperer boyfriend and Barnes and Noble book) I am beginning to separate the myriad of sounds I hear from my porch into very specific songs each male bird is singing to the females.

And isn't that what everything is about?

Somehow taking a step back and separating the swirling, chaotic, blurry mix of thoughts and life out until it makes sense....or at least until you can taste it.

Although I haven't always been able to practice it, I've loved this concept all along. I am obsessed, intrigued, moved by inner worlds. Attention to detail. Separating the seemingly monotonous, uninteresting out into a stretch of detailed descriptions. That's why I love David Foster Wallace, the poem 'People', why I love looking inside people's brightly lit houses at night (creeper status?), why I love listening to conversations at Tap & Mallet and imagining their life. It all makes you stop, makes you listen, makes you think about their world.

All I know is that life is ready to freely hand you anxiety.

And this anxiety will choke the joy out of the now.

And I am holding tightly to my now; tasting, hearing, seeing, smelling, feeling....

Until it sticks to my bones.

The Word

by Tony Hoagland

Down near the bottom

of the crossed-out list

of things you have to do today,

between "green thread"

and "broccoli," you find

that you have penciled "sunlight."

Resting on the page, the word

is beautiful. It touches you

as if you had a friend

and sunlight were a present

he had sent from someplace distant

as this morning—to cheer you up,

and to remind you that,

among your duties, pleasure

is a thing

that also needs accomplishing.

Do you remember?

that time and light are kinds

of love, and love

is no less practical

than a coffee grinder

or a safe spare tire?

Tomorrow you may be utterly

without a clue,

but today you get a telegram

from the heart in exile,

proclaiming that the kingdom

still exists,

the king and queen alive,

still speaking to their children,

—to any one among them

who can find the time

to sit out in the sun and listen.

 xoxo,

mp