"Life is what happens when you are busy making plans." ~ John Lennon
When I was in my late twenties, I went on a trip to Scotland with my mother and brother.
Although I was a little afraid to spend so much time with my family, I was also looking forward to the trip. When it finally arrived, I couldn't wait to see the beautiful Highlands, visit old castles and eat endless amounts of shortbread. When we got there, I did just that and it was incredible.
But even though I loved my mother to the moon and back, like many parent-child relationships, she also got on my nerves. As the trip progressed, I was annoyed by how many pictures she had taken, how often she repeated the same stories, and how late she slept (and snored) in the morning as I yearned for exploration.
A lack of contact with my friends and a lack of personal freedom for my family made me crawl out of my skin with impatience and frustration.
I heard Eckhart Tolles The Power of Now every morning while drinking my coffee. His memories of staying present at the moment (the "now") reminded me that there was no point in "arguing with reality" and wishing I was not where I was. But at the end of the day, I inevitably counted sleep until I could fly home and return to normal life.
What I could not know on this trip was that my mother would die of a heart attack only a few months after returning to the States. The pictures she wanted to take every five minutes were her last pictures of Earth; The conversations we had about the hotel breakfast were some of our last mother-daughter interactions.
I could not have known it at the time, but I would soon hurt because of her repetitive stories, miss to slide the pillow over my ears while she was snoring, and yearn for "overtaking" certain moments when I acted like a brat.
In the years since she's gone (and a lot of self-work), I've forgiven myself for being human and wishing my time on this trip – but this experience has taught me that we can never take time , Life or the people in it for granted.
Although it is easy to forget, life always only happens in the present, and good old Eckhart Tolle is still right when he (repeatedly) reminds me of the power of today.
But how well I learned this lesson after my mother's death, that feeling of wanting to fast forward into the future, is one that I've noticed a lot lately, both in myself and in culture as a whole.
The coronavirus pandemic has brought many normal parts of life to a standstill, and it feels like life itself has actually stopped. For those who are lucky enough not to be sick (or to have relatives), the changes in daily life seem to have been pressed like a giant "pause" button on our world – as if we had stepped into a dystopian film .
When can I work again?
When will we know that the curve has flattened?
When will I feel safe in a crowd again?
When is that over?
When we watch these dystopian films, we know that we will eventually get out of the cinema, throw our popcorn bucket away, and continue with normal life.
But this current version of the world is not a film: it is real life, and although it feels anything but normal, nobody stops us with a huge remote control. Even though the streets are empty and the grocery shelves are empty, the calendar pages still fly by and every day that passes is one of the few we have in life.
If the loss of my mother unexpectedly taught me something, I don't want to live anymore, even if things feel dark, overwhelming, or downright frightening. Life is happening right now, and there are ways we can go on while we still have room for the surreality of everything.
In the spirit of being present with what is and making friends with an unpleasant reality, I offer you some tried and tested steps to remain present with life – whatever it may bring.
1. Start your day on purpose
Under normal circumstances, it is tempting to start picking up our phones and in the midst of a pandemic, checking the news at dawn can feel almost responsible. But unless we actually step out the door the moment our feet hit the floor, there is no reason to make a screen (or the news and opinions about it) the first thing we see.
Starting our day with things outside of our immediate reality can create panic, fear, and a frightening picture of what the future day or week could bring.
Before I connected to the world, I found that at least half an hour with myself (and the family right in front of me) can ground me in the present and provide me with the foundation to face it, what's going on elsewhere.
During this time I imagine how my day should go: How do I want to feel, react or show myself whatever happens? Yes, in order to imagine the next day, you have to leave the present – but in a way that forms the basis for protection for every future moment that the day will bring.
2. Check in what is real
What is really real for me at the moment? Not what's on the news, not what I wish would happen, but what's right in front of me?
I ask myself: How do I feel physically, emotionally and mentally? I babble with my baby and "talk" to her about what I see, hear, smell, taste and feel.
Although it is responsible to keep up to date with community guidelines and general information about the current pandemic, checking in with our senses and what is really real in our world can prevent us from entering the imaginary dystopian future to penetrate.
3. Decrease productivity pressure and slow down
Normal life is often filled with haste: hurry to work, drop the children off, go for a walk with the dog or do the "thing" and get it over with. Quarantine has abruptly cut off much of this "hectic" mentality, but we sneaky people are finding ways to hold onto our comforting (albeit unhealthy) habits.
One of these habits is the tendency to stay busy. During this "stay at home" order, I saw a boost in productivity: a pressure to take the time to learn, create, reach, plan your children perfectly, organize community initiatives, and all without physical support from your regular Village to do
If you have the bandwidth to use this time in a "productive" way that feels good, more performance for you – there is nothing wrong with accomplishing this if it is from a place of inspiration or performance is coming. But if, like many of us, you are struggling to do the minor tasks in life right now, I encourage you to reject this productivity boost and rely on the slowness that has been created this time.
If it is more difficult than usual to prepare for the day, practice noticing everything about what it means to prepare for the day: "Right now I'm combing my hair, now I'm feeding the dog, now I'm getting." me in the shower. "
When you notice (and say) what you are actually doing, allow yourself to do only that – not be ashamed of the language you are not learning, or wondering why working from home is not as smooth as you thought it might be.
Bending into slowness, noticing and staying with every act taken, and giving yourself permission to be overwhelmed (and probably slower than usual) is a key to being present with life as well to stay as it is now.
4. Be a time traveler
I was not particularly grateful to my mother during my trip to Scotland because it felt so normal to be with her: after all, I had never lived in a world with her. Now, however, I would be so grateful to wake up with her snoring or to hear her tell the same story about Buford, the runaway cow.
Because I lost her, I realize how precious the time I had with my mother – and the sobering, but truthful fact about life (even in the best of times) is that at some point we will lose everything .
One day everything is made precious because the nature of our life is impermanence. While I doubt that either of us will miss the fear or heartbreak of this pandemic, we may miss the extra time with our family, the unique way people were friendly, or the incredible global connection we've been through the same at the same time as every other person on the planet.
Just as we could be jealous of our former self, who went to basketball games (a few months ago) and resisted sweaty yoga classes against people, one day our future self could miss these strange times, if only because we squatted down and spent it with people who are no longer in our lives or with parents of children who are now grown up and out of the house.
***
Although the experiences are decidedly different, I see some parallels between my mother's sudden death and the present time.
After my mother died, I kept trying to collect parts of myself and put them back together: I waited for the day when things would feel normal again. But my relationships, goals and every other thought felt different … because it was me.
Similarly, these things are unlikely to feel that way when the world, our communities, and individual life return to what could be called normal. Our world will be different now because we are.
But instead of grasping yesterday's familiar or projecting it into an imaginary tomorrow, I hope that with me you will create space for grief, destruction, and transformation that both happen together and in each of us.
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Yes, things are difficult right now, but as the great Ram Dass said, let's be here now.
This is – right now – our life, and as long as we still have a choice, we decide every day how we want to live it.
About Melissa Pennel
Melissa Pennel is a Northern California life coach, writer, speaker, and podcaster. If she doesn't make faces to her baby or plays lasers with her cats, you can write her on her blog or talk about life with meaning in her podcast "Follow Your Fire: Life, Work and Purpose" (available on her website). iTunes, Spotify or Soundcloud.)
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