Living in the Moment

I had kind of a crazy summer. My neck got injured, and it took a couple of months to sort that out. I got stung by a wasp; my knee swelled up and my brain didn’t work so well for a few days. I crashed my car – fortunately, no one was hurt beyond a little whiplash, but it was quite traumatic – and then, while I was attempting to get my body back together in a movement class at the gym, I fell and hurt my hip. And a couple of days later, I got stung by a bee and my right hand swelled up.

One of my teachers says that, when you are at odds with your higher self, you get three warnings. Then you get hit by a “clue-by-four.”

So I went looking for clues, because if the “clue-by-four” hasn’t happened yet, I want to make sure it doesn’t - ever.

If you’re taking your personal vehicle apart, and it is lying in pieces on the garage floor, it’s not a good time to drive anyone to the post office. So I stopped writing blog posts because I didn’t feel as if I could conscionably tell anyone anything. And I canceled two weeks of clients, because I didn’t feel that I was  in a position to help them.

But eventually, I had to go back to work. And, as so often happens, opening up to my clients’ needs became a way for me to organize my self in a new way.

I can’t tell you exactly what I learned this summer, because I don’t know.I did go back over every mishap, to remember what I had been thinking at the time. And for none of those times had I been completely present. Not even close.

 Like my neck. I knew that this person shouldn’t be touching my neck. But I didn’t want to hurt the person’s feelings.

Like sting number one. I knew that the wasps had been flying around my front door. But I was late for an appointment (which I should have canceled) and I forgot and rushed out and presented my (obviously aggressive) knee to a patrolling sentry.

Sting number two happened when I was hiking, using my cell phone as a stop watch, timing a Kickstarter video I was getting ready to make to promote my new album. Not exactly a contemplative walk in nature.

And the car crash? I was reading a roadside sign about a selectman’s meeting in a town I don’t even live in, and neglected to see that someone was stopped dead in front of me, waiting behind someone waiting to make a left turn.

What does all this have to do with young children? Everything. What they want, most of all, from us is our presence. And so often, we are not there. We think that we are helping them by doing all the things we do for them. And we do. But we are withholding the most important thing. We are lost to ourselves - and then they can’t find us.

What did I do for two weeks? I tried to find myself. Or a different self that had some hope of being present. I went looking for a new used car. I went hiking with my dog. I went to a wedding, and hung out with my colleagues and didn’t talk about work. I had some different kinds of conversations with my husband. I made mental space for my son to return home from his summer job at a camp. I thought about everything that made me angry and released it. - over and over and over and over . . .  I started getting rid of clutter in my house. I meditated. I worked on some personal writing. I brought my sleeping bag outside and watched the stars for hours.

There is a crazy kind of intensity that happens when one is project-driven. I had expected to spend the summer getting things done, so that I could “move on” and do other things.But instead, I have found myself sitting still. Feeling the breeze. Enjoying the most banal conversations. Playing with my dog on his terms.

In short, I have been behaving more like a young child.

Children just do it. I have make a conscious effort to do it. I am finding that when I live in that kind of consciousness, I am happier. And so are the people around me. I still need to get things done. But now for me, the most important thing is the quality of attention I bring to my life.

And when I am present, I find that the important things tend to get done. Like this post.