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Being Present

While I was running in the pouring rain today, I kept thinking about writing.  In fact, when it was pouring pouring pouring and the temperature dropped like 10 degrees and I started losing feeling in my fingers, I began writing this post in my mind.  It was really really good.  I laughed and cried and thought Gees, you're such a great writer Mary! (Yes, I can in fact fool myself).  Only now . . . I can't really remember much I wrote in my mind.  Darn mind. 

Speaking of minds, May turns mine to mush.  Between allergies (thank you beautiful budding trees . . . I lovingly Hate You) and the insane end of year recitals and school demands, I can't keep anything straight.  Everything is going sideways and I'm barely holding on.  I honestly think every single May, I am officially going crazy.  Then school ends, June comes cool and calm and there aren't really any demands and I get to remember how to breath.

No joke, I actually honestly get so discombobulated that I forget to breath.  I feel myself taking these doggy breaths in and out in and out and realize that my shoulders are literally touching my ears and I pretty much have totally forgotten that life is actually to be ENJOYED.  Not just endured.

Which was one of the things I do remember thinking about when I was running in the freezing cold pouring rain (which I must insert, Utah rarely has rain storms, even when the mountains are covered in mist and dark clouds swirling, nine times out of ten, it just blows away and you get nothing but the hint of moisture--so I thought I was safe.  Obviously not . . .):  that May with it's insanity teaches me each year how to slow down.  How to say Nope.  How to say Yes please.  How to chisel out time to breath.  And most of all, the importance of being present.

That's the most important thing it teaches me of all:  Being present.

It's the secret ingredient to finding happiness in the craziness of life.

Being present.

In yoga, that's what you're taught the whole class and asked to take with you when you leave . . . this ability to stay present in this moment and let it be a rich good time for you.

I'm horrible at it.  I'm like an expert at rushing on to the next thing in my mind . . . when I'm Phoebe's dance recital, I'm really planning on how when I get home I'm going to get my lesson ready for the next day.  And half the time, I miss her dance!  Or when I'm at the grocery store, I'm planning on how I'm going to get dinner done in 25 minutes (idiot plans  . . . dinner ALWAYS takes an hour) so we can finally get everyone to bed at 8.  Which is why I always forget the butter!  Yes, I would say that being present is a massive challenge in my life.

So . . . this week, this month, my intention has been to "be present."  I've been thinking it might have been the worst month in the year to pick it, but as I've been navigating this month (mostly badly), I've realized I couldn't have picked a better month.

Today.

This moment.

Is.

Essential.

 Stop.

Listen.

Watch.

Feel.

Let go of later.

Live now.

Yeah.  Just like that . . . only, I'm bad at it like I said.  So I have had to practice this being present really hard and what I've learned is the best way to be present?  Put down your phone.

Or better, turn it off.

So hard.

SOOOO hard.  That thing is not only my fun, my friend, my companion, it's also my secretary, my link to my kinds and friends and family . . . how could I live without it?  I can't!  I CAN'T!

Can I?

Turns out I can.

Not for a long time, but for an hour or two at a time?  Sure thing.

This week when I was doing book return at the high school (not exactly where I wanted to be), I practiced that being present and instead of just doing the work, I turned to the woman I was working with and asked her questions about her life, her children, herself.  The other teachers joined in and the two hours literally flew by.  It was easy.  It was fun.  And I learned so much about these women and how to get your kids in to concurrent enrollment (college classes in high school) and how many students really have 4.0 (not as many as you'd think), and what a good student is, and how to watch your sons baby for 40 hours a week.  Fascinating.

I'm telling you . . .

And it didn't end there.  Being present means noticing stuff around you.  Sure, I noticed how grouchy I'd been and how frustrated with how things never seem to go according to plan, but have I noticed what's going on around me with people around me?

Uh.

No . . .

So, I started looking around at people around me and asking them, really asking them, Hey, how are you?  And instead of taking their immediate, I'm great! response, I would ask real questions of things that I knew were hard or going on in their lives.  I'm telling you, a ten minute conversation makes a huge difference.

I called my sister to complain about my life (my favorite subject obviously), but it turns out, she was in the same pickle as me--to many commitments and not enough time--and she was drowning.  And instead of say, Yes, true let me share with you how bad my life is . . . I just listened.  I listened and gave a little advice and mostly told her she was strong and wise and good and that everything would work out.

I could hear her take a breath.  A real big deep breath and let it out and then I could hear a smile in her voice (no joke, smiles are in voices . . . ).  I could tell that just from me stopping and listening, she was better.

That was easy right?

It is easy.

And it makes a difference.

And not just to them.  It changed me.  It made me see that though I was wishing someone would come give me a hug and say, Tell me all your problems, really, we ALL feel this way.  And as we are hugging someone and asking them to tell us where it hurts, we are being healed.

Really.

It's like that simple.

I think of that scripture in Matthew: "And he that findeth his life shall lose it; and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it." (Matthew 10:39)

It know it sounds crazy, but honestly, when we let go of ourselves and our craziness, we get to see that we're not alone in the craziness, in fact, we're in good company.  And as we help others, well, we aren't alone anymore are we?  No.  And suddenly, our burdens are lighter.

And that's what comes out of being present.

So, here's my challenge to you all as you're racing around, possibly screaming in your mind (or that's just me . . .but really, that Silent Scream painting, I sooo feel it), or just feeling like crying because it all seems to much . . . put your phones away.  Stop racing.  Look around you at the people around you and ask them a question, or hug them, or tell them, I'm so glad you're here with me.

And I promise you, the scream inside will quite and for a moment (and maybe just a moment) you'll feel present.

And I'm telling you, it feels good.



Piper being present . . . 

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