It’s fleeting, isn’t it?
Life.
That’s all I could think yesterday as I found myself with the rest of the Spurling team, standing in line to pay our respects to a member of our community who lost a loved one much too soon. I stared at the poster boards of photos, at the captured moments in time, and my heart ached for the family and the moments they won’t get to share.
Last night, I slid behind the wheel of my car and on my long drive home, resolved, as so many of us do when confronted with death and mortality, to stay more present, to live more in the moment, to be sure that I am sucking the marrow out of life, as Thoreau wrote. (Dead Poet’s Society had a profound effect on me as a teenager, though I had no idea what sucking the marrow out of life even meant…).
I resolved, yet again, to taste my first sip of coffee in the morning instead of mindlessly scrolling through my phone while I drink it. To search and really see the colors in a sunset instead of replaying the day in my head and worrying over things I said and fretting over moments to come. To close my eyes when Frank Sinatra’s “Nice & Easy” comes crackling through my speakers and really feel the voice that I fell in love with so many years ago.
I will stop blindly moving forward in this world, a Stepford wife of empty habits and routines that tie together to form a life.
And then, just as I was making these resolutions, a car from Massachusetts starting riding my bumper as I drove through construction on I95 and I started cursing a blue streak, losing all track of my resolutions in thinking about the dread of commuting with the tourists in the coming months.
The moment put me right smack in the middle of the daily struggle so many of us have to not only develop mindfulness and presence, but to dismantle some of the patterns we’ve developed over time.
In Buddhism, there is an intense focus on mindfulness, and on focusing on the now. The present is the only moment that we’re guaranteed, and yet we struggle mightily to live in the moment.
I don’t mean quitting your job, emptying your life savings and trotting off to live in an Airstream on a beach in San Diego kind of a mid-life crisis moment, but the planning for the future, appreciating and learning from the past while still experiencing the world around you kind of moment.
I mean leaning in to our five senses and experiencing every last bit of texture in a moment.
Staying present is, like so many habits, a difficult one to form. We develop our tendencies and behaviors in such slow and subtle ways, and these patterns become so deeply grooved that, unfortunately, it’s not enough to simply will yourself to do things differently.
We are often ready to resolve ourselves to change, but not yet ready for the practice that such change requires.
But awareness, and those moments that bring us such strong awareness, are the catalysts. They are the starting points that we all must have to begin.
So today, as I climb into my car for the drive back to work - I will keep my eyes forward. I will lean in to music from my speakers. And I will set out to break that pattern of sleeping through moments - and do my best to wake up to my life.