I am HERE

Three simple words. Yet why do I have such a hard time embracing the truth they impart? Throughout my life I've found it nearly impossible to remain present for more than a few seconds at a time, unless there is something really, really captivating happening.

Yes, there have been moments where I sit in a state of bliss as a breeze dances across my face, the ocean laps at my feet, or a delicious sip of wine rolls around in my mouth, but those moments are usually fleeting. Very quickly my analytical mind kicks in and starts to break the moment down into pieces. It pins little thoughts about the past to it, either in an effort to tear the moment down or bolster it up: "Was this ocean breeze as good as or better than yesterday’s when I simultaneously watched that majestic pelican soar by?” Then I realize I’ve left the present, blissful moment, and I begin to scold myself for not being able to stay present. Which subsequently leads me to scolding myself for scolding myself. After all, I should, “bring myself back with compassion,” shouldn’t I? Oooff. Being inside this mind is a lot.

I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that the only way to navigate my landmine of a mind is to explore and embrace the idea of being HERE, as much as possible. 

I’ve navigated an over anxious mind that tends to linger in depressive states for as long as I can remember. For most of my life I was able to identify my periods of depression, but not my anxiety. In fact it took an off hand comment from a Reiki client years ago to help me realize that I navigated extreme anxiety on a regular basis. I had become so accustomed to this state of being, that it never occurred to me that everyone wasn’t always walking around terrified of all the possible outcomes (bad AND good) of each moment. Even when I allowed myself to feel happy, those moments often disintegrated into questions about how long that happiness would last, and was I deserving of it, etc. 

Am I here?

“If you are depressed, you are living in the past. If you are anxious, you are living in the future. If you are at peace, you are living in the present.” - Lao Tzu 

This Lao Tzu quote resonates deeply with me, and while it’s a generalization, I find it to be true. Though, I do think my depression and anxiety are so intertwined that I’m able to be depressed about the future, and anxious about the past. What can I say, I’m an overachiever. But the point is, that in general, it’s when I’m stuck in speculative thoughts that I find myself stuck in suffering. 

“What if we don’t get this lease signed and I have to start this whole process over?” 

“What if I had said “this” seven years and six days ago to that boss who made me feel awful?” 

I get so caught up in a whirlwind of “what ifs”; they end up swirling around me in a confusing, depressing, anxiety inducing storm that I get completely lost in. Sometimes I would find myself wandering in the wilderness of it all for days, weeks, months, or even years on end. But then at other times I’d be able to steer my way out of the tempest very quickly. I began to wonder, what was it that those particular times had in common, and I realized it was the rate at which I could bring myself back to the present moment.

Before moving forward, let me say that I recognize my place of privilege and abundance. I’m blessed to live a life where I’m generally safe and definitely well loved. So I want to acknowledge that this next thought might be easier for me than it is for others. 

What’s actually happening right now? 

When I find myself in the midst of suffering, if I can take a breath or two and consider what’s actually happening in the present moment, 99% of the time, nothing is wrong. I’m not in any danger; I’m not in the midst of a difficult conversation; I’m not literally suffering in anyway. I am, however, experiencing self-imposed suffering by allowing my mind to wander off to the many millions of things that I can creatively come up with to fret about. But nothing is actually wrong in that particular moment. 

In any given moment, I might be brushing my teeth, unloading the dishwasher, or cooking dinner; whatever it is that I’m doing, it’s so rarely tied to the suffering that I’m experiencing. 

Maybe I’m trying to plan a class, which as a Yoga teacher, is arguably a much more important “task” for me to be immersed in than unloading the dishwasher. I think about how I want to begin the class, what things I might want to mention, and what postures might be well suited to my goal. But then, my anxious mind steps in and says, “Will anyone show up for this class? Then, if they do show up, will they like it? If they don’t like it, will they stop liking me? And if they stop liking me, well then they will surely stop taking classes. And if people stop taking classes, won’t I then be forced to shut the whole thing down and return to some other type of work that made me miserable in the past? And if I’m forced to do that, will I have a long commute? And will that commute cut into my family time? And if it does, will my relationship break down and will I find myself alone because I didn’t nurture my relationship because I was stuck driving back and forth from a job I didn’t want, all because no one showed up for my classes?” And on and on and on until I’ve spiraled into such a deep state of discomfort that I can’t possibly plan a meaningful class. 

Sometimes the spiral happens so fast that I cannot control it. But sometimes I can identify the, “Will anyone show up for this class,” thought as the beginning of the spiral, and I can take a breath and bring myself back to the moment. “Let’s just think about a few calming postures. I can’t control whether people show up, but I can control what I have to offer them if they do.” Sometimes it takes just one redirect, and other times I have to repeatedly redirect myself, maybe even all the way through until the end of whatever it is that I’m doing. However, each time I redirect myself, I’m strengthening that “muscle” in my mind and I’ve found that over time it has genuinely become stronger. 

I used to spend most of my days with an out of control, spiraling mind in the driver seat; I was just along for the ride. But now… now that I can identify those first spiraling thoughts and subsequently shift myself back to the present moment, I realize that I’ve retaken the wheel. When I stay in the HERE and NOW, I remain in control. And when I am in control, I can reduce my suffering.

Ram Dass had it right

It’s not hard to find everything from inspiring quotes to entire books about the idea of being in the HERE and NOW. And often what the author is trying to communicate is the simple fact that you can’t truly be anywhere else but here, in this moment. It’s all we have. You can choose to spend your life, moment by moment, pondering the past or fretting about the future, but you are not in the past and you are not in the future, you are right here and right now. And now, just a second later, you are right here and the time is still right now. 

That’s it. This moment is all there really is. And now it’s this moment. And wait for it… now it’s this moment. 

“At this moment if you set the alarm to get up at 3:47 this morning and when the alarm rings and you get up and turn it off and say: What time is it? You’d say… Now. Where am I? Here!
Then go back to sleep. Get up at 9:00 tomorrow. Where am I?? Here! What time is it? Now! 
Try 4:32 three weeks from next Thurs. 
By God, it is — there’s no getting away from it — that’s the way it is. That’s the eternal present.
You finally figure out that it’s only the clock that’s going around .. .. It’s doing its thing but you — you’re sitting … Here … Right Now … Always”

— An excerpt from Be Here Now, by Baba Ram Dass 

It comes down to how you choose to spend these moments that continuously string together to make up your life. 

Another caveat: I know that sometimes it’s hard to come to terms with the fact that we have a choice. Before I fully understood the nature of my anxiety and depressive dips, I didn’t believe that I had a choice — it was simply the way I was and it was all happening to me. But over time, my desperate search to find some meaning in my life, led me to the understanding that I do, indeed, have a choice. Sometimes I make a choice that leads me away from suffering. Sometimes I make a choice that leads me directly to it. But either way, I have made the choice. 

Here I am. Here we are. 

Here we are. At the start of another new year. They just keep coming. One after another. For me, 43 of them stacked up one atop the other. 

Of course we can choose whether or not to buy into the idea that each new year affords us a fresh start. Ultimately you were no different at 12:00 am on January 1st, 2023 than you were at 11:59pm on December 31st, 2022 (except one minute older). 60 seconds passed by and you were still you. 

Maybe (hopefully!) you’re perfectly thrilled with how your life is, and if so, you keep doing you. Moment by moment, just keep doing what you’re doing. I applaud you.

On the other hand, if you’re like me, and you spend more time than you’d like, stuck suffering inside your own head, then I invite you to join me in exploring the here and now. 

This month we’ll marinate in the truth of being HERE, right NOW. We’ll rely on some experts to show us the way, plus I’ll share a few simple ways I attempt to remain present, even if just for a few moments. If you signed up to receive our Mindful Mornings emails, you’ll get a quick, daily dose of HERE & NOW all throughout January. If you prefer a little less frequency, no worries, we’ll pop into your inbox on Monday mornings with some quick insight on how you can explore the concept over the following week if you’re so inclined. 

I hope this months focus helps you to know yourself better.

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om Peace Peace Peace