Each moment is the only moment and when guiding a meditation I often add “precious moment, only moment” as a prompt to stay focused in the here and now. As I sit to write this monthly blog it is 3 PM and the sun is shining. I am aware I am here at home in Worcester, Massachusetts which is on the east coast. I have just returned after 10 days of visiting family on the west coast in Sacramento, California and my body is still adjusting to the change in time and weather. My internal and external worlds are not fully in sync. At this moment my belly wants food, I register the sensation, look at my watch and note it’s not lunchtime in Worcester as it would be in California. My sleep pattern has been disrupted, I wake up early and fall asleep later. I’m discovering that my body/mind likes routine and predictability and my adaptability to change has decreased. I don’t like acknowledging this truth. A precious moment, yes. I am here but I am disoriented by the larger time frame and I find myself irritable.
I believe I am flexible, resilient, and enjoy change. It freshens my perspective and I welcome seeing things with new eyes. I’ve always loved experiencing different cultures, traveling, meeting new people, and experiencing new things. I enjoyed walking in Sacramento and discovering front lawns with cacti and fruit trees. There was bougainvillea along the fence in my brother's backyard and a clump of redwood trees planted over a hundred years ago standing tall among the palms and orange and lemon trees in the neighborhood around our Airbnb. It was a gift to be with my brother, celebrate his recent marriage, and deepen my relationship with Jeanne, my new sister-in-law. She baked a crunchy moist apple cake just for us that I loved. It was fun to watch her make pasta on the pasta machine we had given her and enjoy laughter and mindfulness along with mushroom stroganoff. It was very special, loving, and caring to be with her and my brother. But, now that I am home with 3000 miles separating us, casual visits are impossible. I miss being able to drop in and hang out together and share a meditation practice. I pause and feel some sadness and wonder if this underlies my irritability. Recognizing the sadness I also feel a sense of gratitude that there is a loss because we care for each other and a sense of sweetness comes too. I can appreciate the time we shared in person and know that our relationship endures wherever we are.
My brother’s two daughters live in Sacramento and I got to spend time with each of them and their families as well. It is important to me to stay connected. I want my nieces’ young children to know me and to experience them. They change so fast and grow so quickly. It is always a surprise to see their personalities develop along with their skills. I feel the same way about my nieces, now mature young women managing careers and families. How amazing that these cute little girls who I held in my arms as babies now have their own children. Anna, the older one, has a 3-year-old girl who knows how cute she is and does belly dancing and a 9-year-old boy who presents his own challenges but is very sweet with his little sister. Bekka, three years younger than Anna, has a three-and-a-half-year-old boy who they describe as a “threeteen” as he runs around and happily asserts his little boy self as he points his finger at you to leave him alone. He loves fire trucks, cars, dumpsters, and big construction machines and idolizes his nine-year-old cousin who he loves to follow around.
Seeing my nieces as parents mark the passage of time and remind me of my own aging and the value of the time we have to be together. Each moment needs no reminding of its preciousness and how quickly time moves. I marvel at my niece’s maturity and their skill as parents. I am impressed by how patient they are with their kids and how demanding it is to have small children.
All is good yet I am more irritable than usual. I have never been good at letting go. Wishing we all lived closer to each other, am I holding on? Is it the New England weather that is still cold that is creating some dissatisfaction? I walked this morning and I saw the promise of daffodils sprouting and some crocuses and snowdrops scattered in the softening earth but the forsythia is not yet blooming in central Massachusetts. It was spring in California where the air was warm during the day and cool at night. I could walk without heavy layers of clothes and go to the playground with the kids and see them in their t-shirts and light clothes and feel their joy and energy. The fruit trees were laden with lusciously colored flowers, cacti were putting out sprouts and the trees had leafed out and were the bright green of spring.
…It is now another day. I saw more buds on the trees as I walked this morning and we visited friends in Boston. I saw forsythia blooming there. It’s still cold but it will change.
Breathing in I know I am breathing in
And give thanks.
Breathing out I know I am breathing out
And give thanks
Dwelling in the present moment.
I give thanks.
It is a precious moment.
It is the only moment.
Next moment---only moment--I remember to greet it and appreciate being alive.