Forgive me. I have filled this space before with a similar sentiment. But too often I find myself slipping again. And I suspect I’m not alone.
What I’m failing to do is live in real time. Oblivious to tomorrow. Divorced from yesterday. Undistracted by whatever is on the screen in my left hand. Black screens of any size can be so beneficial.
In distraction, I’m missing my life. It’s not just a lack of focus. I’m missing my purpose for being here. I’m missing an opportunity. I’m less than my best. Or worse, in the company of others, I’m neglecting someone. I need to focus on now and remember that the best memories are lived in the present.
Ever heard someone say, “I’m just trying to be where my feet are?” That’s the idea. But there’s more to it. It’s not just the microcosm of living in the moment. It’s also a recognition. It’s being fully aware.
It’s about appreciating everything around you. And everything within you. All of your senses in sync. It’s about what brought you here. Making a memory, not reliving one.
It’s about being grateful for everything you have and everything you don’t.
We’ve all done this before. Maybe it was leaving footprints on the shore of a distant island. The warm water and sand washing over you, cleansing you, a thousand miles from nowhere. Or riding a ski lift, at one with the majesty around you, contemplating the source of it. Closing your eyes and seeing it even more clearly.
What I’m failing to do is do this more. It’s so easy not to be present. To find out what I’m missing. To be somewhere I’m not. As though I can be two places at once. I’m too often reminded that yesterday can’t be captured. I need to let the past have its place.
Only fools and first-timers try to repeat the perfect day.
There’s a reason “they grow up so fast” is the most repeated adage of all time. It’s also every parent’s greatest regret. Just ask them. But do we heed the advice?
Recently, I attended a father-daughter weekend with my college sophomore’s sorority. There were plenty of group events. We filed along, passing the time and places, taking pictures along the way. But one morning it was just the two of us. Coffee in hand, at an out-of-the-way park, we set out on a long hike. How lucky was I?
Being alone with her was catching smoke in a spoon. Every step was meaningful. Every word was priceless. What was a Saturday stroll to the people we passed was unforgettable to me.
The photos filling your phone are of little value if you weren’t there when they were taken. Make the time. Take the time. Trust this. The answer is easy to say, but hard to do. It takes thought, and effort. We have to put lessons into practice. Avoid regret by eliminating distractions. That’s why we have pockets.
OK, I got it out. I’m going to be more intentional. Less me, more you. More eyes up. Less things in my ears. More deep breaths. More thought. More gratitude.
Thank you for listening.