Preamble
On August 5, I was diagnosed with a small aneurysm in my left carotid artery, which my primary care physician dismissed initially, but sent me to a neurologist, which lead to a neurosurgeon, which lead to discussions of the location of the aneurysm (inside or outside the brain), required me to detail a long family history of aneurysm, and lead me to trying not to freak out over the remote possibility of brain surgery...ultimately leading to an angiogram last week that revealed that the "aneurysm" was nothing more than a misshapen artery. A happy ending after weeks of anxiety...
Existential Living
I have been spending a good deal of time and effort lately trying to live in the moment...an exercise in trying not to worry about the future before I have all the information needed to make decisions. It is amazingly hard to do, especially when parenting teenagers—even though they live remarkably well in the present—their very existence is forward-directed...there is nothing but time ahead of them and as a parent, I am constantly thinking about who they are, who they will become, how can I help them get there? So this exercise in existential living has given me a glimpse back to a time when I was able to lay my head on the pillow at night with the comfort of a home and family, food that I didn't have to cook, the anticipation of time spent with friends, thinking barely further than the next day's events.
I lost the ability to live in the moment as I became a responsible adult...it's a somewhat necessary loss—jobs, bills, managing family and work, providing the future for my children that will allow them to fulfill their dreams—all requires planning, thinking about goals, money, schools, classes, homework. And helping them develop their interests through sports or music or art contributes to the complexity of planning. So, it's no wonder that it gets harder to be in the moment—even if I can manage it briefly, life comes back at me with more--just more. More obligations, events, details to take care of, doctor appointments and tests to schedule, teachers to meet, deadlines to make, and those ever-present money details—forward thinking in themselves—saving for college, retirement, next year's vacation.
And yet, I have come to believe that the most valuable currency we have is time, it comes to us in a limited quantity and we can never make gains on it, we can only spend it. So the challenge is how to spend it well.
So what is time well-spent? Standing on the sidelines watching my child excel in a sport she loves so much she laughs and smiles while playing—feeling proud and happy and successful that she has found such joy in sport; listening to my daughter sing while she does her homework, chores, showers, pretty much anything—thrilled to know that no matter what life throws at her, she has developed a coping mechanism that will assist her in dealing its those struggles; sitting next to my husband in a hospital knowing there is no one I would rather have with me at that moment—whether I get good news or bad; hearing the concern and love in a friend's voice—acknowledging that there are people in the world who want the best for me. Being tuned in to the world—able to recognize the beauty in moments—geese flying overhead, v-ing across the sky, the russets and oranges of fall leaves crunching while I walk, the warmth of a dog's head on my feet as I work, an amazement of stars overhead, an abundance of blooms in my garden.
This attempt at living in the moment, while difficult at times, has proven to be a good reminder of all the instances that I typically pass through on a given day without remark...a welcome demonstration of all the wonders that are the sum of my own happiness, if only I take the moment to heed them.