Present Tense
I had lunch this week with a neighbor near our home in North Carolina. She wanted to talk about the election and kitchen decorating ideas.
The bright October sun and the mid-80’s temperatures drove us to the outside patio for food and conversation. I’m interested in the outcome of the election because I know it really matters. However, I put myself on the news fast three months ago. I read two newspapers every day and stay away from the talking heads. It’s improved my anxiety level and keeps me grounded. As bad as this election cycle is, someone will be president. I’ll go on caring about kids and parents even if the next president doesn’t.
I’m better with the decorating discussion. I can see colors in my head and I love the feel of wood, stone and fabric. Putting together a room, or a whole house is like struggling with a jigsaw puzzle that is missing the box top. Is the picture an animal, a vegetable or the Eiffel Tower? That’s the excitement of decorating for me. The finished composition results from not knowing what I’m looking for. Then the relentless search for the perfect color begins. Tramping through stone yards reveals rare, and maybe affordable, granite. Drawer knobs turn up at flea markets and online marketplaces. People like the spaces I decorate. I’m good at turning blank walls into welcoming rooms.
Self-confidence grows from these small victories that invite us to look at ourselves with kindness and tolerance. Recognizing my limitations (I’m not a youthful political activist anymore) and my talents (I can spot the right shade of grey from 20 paces) propels me through the harder tasks: Facing obligatory loses, balancing the needs of a family in chaos, and watching my mother resisting the proof of her own aging.
My neighbor gave me a wonderful compliment as I wiped away the evidence of a tasty and messy barbeque. “You’re unique,” she said with a smile.
“Why?” I asked.
“You live in the present. Today is important to you. You don’t talk about regrets or expectations. That’s unique.”
I think she may be mistaking my best luncheon behavior for real insights into my deeper self. But, living in the present is a goal for me. It’s where life happens. I try to conscious and present because this behavior serves me better than anything else. I make my husband crazy when I veer off into the sharp edges of extreme thinking. I can be irrational, incorrect and totally sure that my worst fears are true about the election, my mother’s deterioration, or whether I’ll ever finish another book. So I stay centered when I can. It’s not easy to stand still, think straight, and work hard to limit the crazy talk that threatens the peace of now.
Admitting that the present is all I’ve got took a long time. I railed against my lack of control during those stressful years of parenting; losing my reason and calm at the evidence of chaos around me. Worrying made me tense and life unbearably random. Here’s a tip: The things I worried about were never the things that happened. I made those things up, became exhausted, and still had to deal with the present crisis when it arrived on the scene.
Let’s face it. If you could predict the future, would that mystical quality make you happy? Other than winning a few great bets, how much really changes if you know what will happen next week, before you get there. You still have to work through the challenges, solve the problems and find the great days where you can. Whatever is out there is probably coming. You can plan, you can scheme, and you can even deny what’s happening. But you can only control yourself, and today. Give yourself a break – take-on today.
You might find it’s just what you’ve been looking for.
