In the last few years, the desire to remain still is what I crave. It is a real struggle. A few evenings ago, I attempted to spend an entire hour stretching my limbs in a class setting. Extending my hands above my head while my legs reached to some point I couldn’t really see, but felt. As my limbs pulled in varying directions, the pain of the stretch surged up my leg and the sensation of discomfort stirred inside. The only option in these moments were to sink into the pain. There wasn’t a way to distract myself. I couldn’t reach for my cell phone to make a phone call, reply to a text, or check e-mail. I looked at the wall and glared at the second-hand on the clock, but the pain didn’t evaporate. My mind wandered around every corner of the room, looking and stopping and then realizing the whole purpose of this stretch was this: To be present in the pain. And to with every minute inch forward, to cultivate patience. There is an innate faith in this principle: being present and patient.
I want to hurry the process. Repeating the words “Be present” doesn’t mean it will automatically happen. That is a start, but the crux of being present is, yes, an up and down, side-to-side, tumultuous process. For me, there is so much random stuff that lurks in my head every minute of the day. Every minute. The phone call that needs to be made, the bill that must be dropped in the mail, the text that demands a reply, the dishes, the laundry, the writing, the caring and feeding of my family. There are countless other lingering thoughts that betray the present. You get the point. How can I be present if I not willing to give myself the patience to work toward this goal? Being present is painful. You can’t linger on the past. You have to let go of it. And you can’t distract yourself with concentrating on the future. Because then you become an unreliable narrator of the life you are trying to embrace in the current moment.
I am learning. There are moments when I fully experience the present. Glimpses where I feel the meeting of mind, body and spirit in an undeniable whole. They often revolve in activities that center around motion and stillness. Reading a book, hearing the raucous laughter when I tickle my daughter’s stomach, looking out the window, running while the sun rises, and lingering in the stretch. I’ve reversed my mantra on stillness: Being patient with myself to fully embrace the present.
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
So much wisdom in your words!
I think our culture is partly responsible for our inability to “be present”. Life comes at us with such lightning speed, there hardly seems time for “patience”.
Inspirational post!
Oh, I have so much trouble being present. It seems congenital for me, as if my brain only exists fully about two days from now, and in the meantime I lose keys, tune out people talking to me, and get twitchy when I’m not distracted. Present is hard. Present (for me) is scary.
I admire your trying to do this. Your persistence in it. There is nothing easy in it for some of us.
For myself, I have long been at a place where I don’t force the present or even reach for it (contradictory though that may sound). Instead, I have learned that those moments will fill me on their own time and when I least expect. Balanced with looking back and forward – perhaps, in my case, that’s as good as it gets.
But sometimes, don’t you NOT want to be present? Like, I don’t want to be present washing vomit off the floor, or doing laundry, or loading the dishwasher. I think a balance between checking in and checking out is key.
The same thought has been running through my head these past few days. Many times, I’ve caught myself brooding over the past or thinking so much of the future that I realize I’ve been missing out on what’s right in front of me. Got to change, I know but it’s easier said than done. I’m not giving up though 🙂
Lovely and wise words Rudri. I wish you the best embracing the moment.
I have a difficult time “forcing” myself to be present. I find myself in the present when I become absorbed in my surroundings…it sort of just happens. I wish I had the discipline to make it happen with meditation, but alas it seems my mind (and possibly my restless bones) are too busy at times.
Being present is even more difficult when you think about how small the present is. The beginning of this sentence will be in the past by the time you get to the end of it. Breakfast will be in the past by the time you start clearing the dishes away. One block ahead of you is still the future until you get there, and once you walk one block ahead of that, it’s in the past. The present keeps changing, and that’s why it’s hard to stay there. It’s hard to keep up with the present without overshooting it and finding yourself in the future.
Remembering to be present and experience the spaciousness is important, almost as important as remembering to be kind to myself. Thank you for your wise words. Happy Mother’s Day!