Presenting: The Present

I've been thinking lately about what it might mean to be more 'present' in my life. I read about 2 pages in the middle of Echkart Tolle's book (a little new-agey for my taste) and saw him on Oprah discussing the importance of being present. In particular, Jim Carrey (who knew?), after reading Tolle's book, noted that all we have are the present moments. Going over in our heads what happened the other day, what will happen later, these are all things that don't even exist. All we have is "right now." For some reason, as bizaar as that is, it's stayed with me for the last couple days.

I think, as women especially, it is so easy for us to talk on the phone, look in the refrigerator to plan dinner, remind ourselves briefly of that thing we have to do right after we're off the phone, perhaps check e-mail, and intersperse quiet whispers to our kids in between the phone conversation we're having ("Ok, you can have one. I'm on the phone, I'll be there in a minute.") And we're also cleaning the kitchen, picking up toys, and making beds as well. We are really good at this. But then, what exactly are we attending to? Well, nothing really. None of it. Nothing has our attention right now because our attention is all over the house and throughout the day, if not also throughout the week. We are not in the one moment that's happening now because we're everywhere else.

I see myself here so often. Too often. And I think the more I have to do, the more I get this way, and the more crazy I can feel.

So in an effort to actually be in one moment at a time, I've stopped this behavior. I might still clean up the kitchen and talk on the phone, but with the kids, I've stopped. I look at them when they are talking to me, I respond to their comments with actual meaningful words, not just "really," or "oh" or "uh-huh" while secretly writing the grocery list or trying to read the paper. As much as I am with them and as much as I do for them and to them, my time will be short and I will wonder where it went, and where exactly was I when it passed. Sometimes it's easier, I think to attend to the meaningless drivel of the daily grind because it takes a lot less energy than attending to the kid who wants my attention. But at the end of the day, at the end of the years, I won't remember the daily drivel. I may not remember those meaningful, attended-to kid-converstations either, but I will know that when they occurred, I was there, and I listened.

So, I'm making a concerted effort to be here now, mostly for these little ones. I have found that when I can focus on them and attend patiently and completely, I am rewarded for my effort. They can tell and they love it.

We aren't then just passing through the time, we are together.