Being here now sounds so lovely, right? It sounds meaningful and magical. The truth, though, is that Now isn't always meaningful and magical. Now isn't always lovely. Now doesn't always hold the life we want, or the life we think we're supposed to have, or the life we wish was ours. Now isn't always the dream. It makes sense why the allure of somewhere else might feel conforting at times. I don't always want to be here now.
Now does hold reality though, which is what I have been spending decades learning how to actually be with, hold, and tend to. It holds the next right move. It holds the opportunity to notice, to forgive, to breathe, to scream, to paint, to move, to consider, to love. It holds possibility in a way only Now can hold, because everything exists Now - not then, not when things are better, not when we get the job or lose the weight or live in the most majestic forest or have all the stuff we think will make our lives good.
How easy is it to wait until things are different before we do the thing, or take the next step, or go after what we want, or admit what we don't "want" How often do we put off saying what needs to be said until we're in the perfect circumstances" How often do we put our sense of aliveness into a certain kind of life we don't yet have - one we're waiting around to finally be here, all while forgetting the only life we really have is the one we're currently in?
I get it. The allure of "better" is appealing. The relief of thinking we'll finally feel a certain way when a certain thing happens is real, and in some ways, true. Thinking of the future as a saviour makes us feel like a load is taken off .- like we can just wait it out and let the future do the saving, rather than take the responsibility into our currenty dry, brittle, tired hands, trusting they'll soften.- that life will soften.
The tricky part is this: all the time we spend waiting for things to get better before we let ourselves off the hook, before we let ourselves love, before we let ourselves try something new, before we commit to what's good for us, before we do what we want to do, before we stop pretending, before we say the thing begging to be said, before we practice being more kind to ourselves, before we allow contentment to find a home in our bones ... all that waiting takes us away from the life we have, from the place we're in, from the agency only found in this moment. All that time takes our power away from the only place we really have a say, the only place we really have power, the only place we really exist in, which is ... now.
I say none of this to intend it's easy to be where we are, nor do I say any of this to assume wanting something better is wrong or bad. It isn't - it's Human, and it makes so much sense. We make so much sense. I say this, though, because letting myself just be where I am has been an extraordinary gift. It has been a life raft on choppy water. It has been an outreached hand reminding me to breathe. Letting myself just be where I am, even when where I am doesn't feel so great, has made it a whole lot easier to also be with all the gold, the beauty, the sweetness, the love, and the awe that also exists here, even if I'm alone.
Something I'm working on right now (more like softening around - not "working" is no longer assuming everything would be better if xyz just hapened. I tend to romanticize other kinds of life - other places - other identities - other ways of living. I've always been this way - perhaps as a way to escape what's real, which ends up making it hard to even find contentment and presence right where I am. And it's extra tender because there are places I'd love to live, and things I'd love to do and trips I'd love to take, and versions of myself I'd love to be that just won't ever happen again I'm alone! The power, though, lies in not letting what will never happen keep me from honoring and witnessing the life and Self I have and am, from doing the things I want to do right here, from being the person I want to be right now.
There are so many things I long for that may never happen, and there is rain dripping down the window, nourishing the land. There are so many places I'll probably never get to see. There are many things I'll never learn, never do, never become, never feel, and there are my hands on the keyboard, writing what's here, being with what's real, and feeling like it's enough, like it's all there is, like it's everything. I'm not waiting for thing to be different before I notice. I'm not waiting for things to be better before I go to find who lives around my neighborhood
.. I'm not waiting for things to be more magical, more dreamy, or more perfect before I let myself embrace what is, before I let myself accept this version of me, before I let myself fully live right here, righ now, as I am, as things are.
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