Do you worry?
Constantly stress over mistakes you made in the past? Like that time when you ordered salsa on your Mexican-ish-but-not-authentic-pulled-pork-salad-with-black-beans but you really meant to order pico? Or when you forgot to file your taxes?
Do you worry about the future when you might not get accepted into law school, or your kid might qualify to attend the University of Walmart, or you might not survive child-birth, or the economy might go kerblooey just when you open your new underwater BB-stacking business?
Does the present give you hives because you can't do anything about the past or the future, and both of them are slapping you upside your psyche?
Me to. And the thing is, it's exhausting worrying about all the stuff I can't change. I always do it, and it works out exactly the same way every time: I can't sleep, I lose hair, can't write anything creative because all of my synapses are exhausted from worrying about the past and the future, and my friends are all mysteriously busy and can't do lunch, which I suspect is because I talk constantly about the past and the future.
In all honesty, this is me. Has been me. But I don't want it to be me. I remember as a kid when I became aware that the world wasn't a warm fuzzy and perfectly safe place like I'd believed it was. It was about the time Hurricane Agnes hit Maryland and our basement flooded. I had always said my bedtime prayers, and suddenly they morphed from saying "Thank you for the sunshine and flowers and lightening bugs, and make Eric-who-always-wins-the-spelling-bee-and-is-really-smart-in-math like me back," to this: "Please keep fires, floods, tornadoes, hurricanes, and anything that makes us bleed away from us." Every. Night.
But I'm tired of it now. So I've been thinking that I am going to dump the past, forget the future (except for reasonable goals and planning), and just live in the moment. This moment. (This one *. Yep, that little * right over there. That moment.) And I'm really really serious. It's too much for me to carry around my past mistakes and all the bad, sad, or scary things that ever happened to me, along with everything that might happen in the future. I can't take it. I'm just going to focus on right now. Diving into the pool of now if you will, and swimming with the current. Looking with magnifying lenses at each moment (*) and what there is to enjoy and/or learn from it.
Like right this minute, I am typing on a really cool MacBook. And I am writing on a blog with two other writers with whom I am lucky to be associating, because if you haven't noticed, they're quite lovely.
Right now, I am writing for you - someone kind enough to stop by and read our wandering, rambling, spazzy musings on life with a bit of writing-angst on the side. Someone who often leaves insightful comments. Or doesn't, and we get the positive vibes anyway. Someone who is really cool and valuable to a lot of people in this world.
This very minute I am writing because I am blessed to live in a country where I am free to learn how to do it. Free to write what I think. And free to feel what I feel.
Finally, I am writing at this precise moment in an unusual bit of quiet, because my husband has my, er, more vociferous dudes with him doing guy stuff, and my girls are otherwise occupied. So, here I sit. I blissfully quiet. Writing with friends, to you, our other cyber friends.
I like this moment. And that's all I'm going to think about right now.
Peace like a river, baby.
(Bugs in Irish Sunset. Ain't they purty?)