Everyone and everything are moving around me at light speed. Some days I look like one of those die hard monks in Tiananmen Square, standing at the epicenter of a busy intersection like an anomaly exhibiting her humanity.
My arms are at my sides, my posture is upright, my eyes are closed, and I have a look of peace about my face that reflects the dissociative episode I am undergoing in the name of enlightenment and progress.
They say the treatment for this kind of behavior is restored memory, but they aren’t genuinely interested in finding the source of my affection for modes of escape. The task of remembering is easier said than done once you learn that limitless freedom is born of forgiveness.
The irony is that there is nowhere I would rather be than right here, and no time for which I would rather be present than this very moment. It is not the hour I am escaping, but rather the obstacles that impede my ability to see a masterpiece in front of me, hear a chorus in my ear, smell the scent of fresh calla lilies, taste the sea salt that’s floating through the air on my tongue, and feel the warmth of a sun that is determined to shine on someone, somewhere. Today and everyday it shines on me. It shines on you, too, but all too often you are moving too swiftly to receive its tenderness.
I wonder where it is you are going with such haste. Can you imagine what it would look like if you pursued this very moment with as much urgency? Forget that you are headed to a meeting, a game, a film, an art opening, or a funeral. Instead, survey your surroundings as if you are already in your meeting. Coach yourself to believe you are already playing in a game of sorts.
How well are you performing? How far are you reaching? Assess how much of your talent and skill you are utilizing and ask whether it indicates your true potential. Imagine that it is you on the screen and you are the lead in your own feature film. You are the artist exhibiting your work, whether it takes the form of a business proposal, a landscape painting, a birth, a kill, a stitch, a peel, or an act of kindness. Pretend you are going to your own funeral, because you are.
How quickly do you move now? At what speed do you cut through the air once you realize that in the act of running to moments which have not yet arrived you deny the only true moment that exists: which is this moment. Now this moment. Now this–and where are you now? Are you busy seeking happiness in a future moment that is slated to fall short of your great expectations, or are you basking in the soft sunlight that greets you?
I am not embarrassed to admit to my molasses momentum, nor am I too proud to profess that I am still learning from my reflections on every lesson learned. Sometimes I open one eye wide to view the judgment I receive, although it remains ineffective at best. It is in these moments that I catch a glimpse of one member of the herd glaring at me with searing indignation. I am reminded that I stand no chance of fitting in here until I help others achieve presence in this moment so that we can all understand each other better.
This much is true: we are all giving a presentation, each of us is charging the field, we are all delivering an Oscar-worthy performance, each of us is exhibiting and exposing our souls by way of creative expression, and we are all marching onward toward our own funeral. Since there is no sense in running to where you are destined to arrive, won’t you stand beside me for a while and shine?
“Running Away From the Now?” by Julie Henderson, June 14, 2015 at http://www.wakingtimes.com/2015/06/14/running-away-from-the-now/
Original link: Running Away From the Now?