In This Moment

Anyone who tells you life is easy once you get what you always wanted is both a liar and a genius.

The thing is, once events transpire and stars collide, there's almost always another piece that needs to fall into place, more work that needs to be done, four thousand conversations to still be had, and even after all of that, new crops will grow, reach their needy hands to the sky for sun and rain.

My point is that we are always transitioning.

I know what I can and cannot control.  I know who I can and cannot trust.  I know when I do and do not feel safe, and I am getting really good at figuring out how to handle all of it, but there are days when I want the future to be right now.

I am a big believer in living in the moment, and lately I have had some pretty spectacular moments.  Blissful.  Peaceful  Easy.  Loving.  But that doesn't mean my heart doesn't skip a beat when the past rears it's ugly head or that my eyes don't start to twitch when I contemplate possible roadblocks in the future.  It's human nature, after all, to plan, to think, to reflect, to wonder, to speculate, to dream.  The trick, I think, is to be just as invested in the right now as we are in the before and the what comes next.  I just have a really hard time doing that.

A friend once said that living in the moment is great except it means we never deal with the past or prepare for the future, and--if we don't--the past can come up and knock us on our ass and the future can knock the wind clean out of us.  I get that.  I have knocked out and breathless more times than I can count, so you'd think I'd be better at letting go of the bullshit attached to the residual and the possible, but I'm just not.

Today, I am trying to live in the light of what I know to be true rather than trying to stay in some arbitrary moment that feels like a whole lot of nothing.  Today, I know I am loved.  I know I am good.  I know I am made of joy and truth and compassion.

I am.

And, in this moment, that is all that matters.