The gift of NOW

Staying in the moment. Being fully present in the now. Not focusing my mind in the past or future. I know that's the key to the whole ballgame. But it's one of the more persistent challenges I have encountered as a human being seeking to express my divine Self--or, shall I say, being God, seeking to express myself as human! Guess I'm doing pretty well with that--what could be more human than dwelling in the future or past?!

Case in point: I am here, in this beautiful place, and it's Tuesday. We are leaving Saturday. That's 4 days away. So why am I letting the dread of leaving (and, the excitement about getting home!), eclipse the magic of the moment?! I know myself well enough to know that I'll be missing this place soon enough (as I am failing to apreciate wherever I am--eeeek!). But I'm here NOW--I want to be totally feeling this, right here, right now! When it's actually time to leave, I'd like to be fully into the leaving as well. In the now. Savoring the moment. Not thinking about anything but the unique deliciousness of each moment as it unfolds.

I don't know if I've blogged about this before or not, but I call it the "Sunday Afternoon Syndrome," that stems from my childhood. I would have a fun-filled weekend with hardly a care--until Sunday afternoon. Then, anticipation of Monday and the school week would cast a shadow over Sunday afternoon and evening so that I could hardly enjoy them for dreading the upcoming loss of freedom the school week brought with it!

In college, in love with a man who lived 90 minutes away, I would live for Friday afternoons when we could see each other. We would have blissful weekends--until, you guessed it, Sunday afternoons, when I knew it would all soon be over until the next weekend, and so the thought of that--of being without him--put a sadness on Sunday afternoon and evening and even when I was still with him, I did not enjoy it as much as I might have if I had not let the future rob the present.

What's that saying? If you are remembering the past or worrying about the future, you're missing the present--the gift of the now. I think I'll re-dedicate myself to savoring the precious gift of being here now. I hear the waves...I feel the sisal underfoot...I feel the warmth of the computer...see the glow of the screen...