Welp, we’ve done it, we’ve made it halfway through 2021. Remember 2020? Remember how it was the longest year ever? Spring 2020 felt slower and denser than any decade of my life. The rest of the year followed at a similar pace, but we’d almost adjusted to such temporal oddity, so it sort of seemed normal—kind of like adjusting to cold lake water or hot bath water, once you’re immersed in it, your body slowly becomes accustomed to the temperature.
So here we are, cruising through 2021 habituated to all of the dread, drama and existential woes of the past 18 months. Imagine trying to explain how normal this all feels to your past self.
But then, imagine what 18 months in the future you would pass back.
This is a dangerous game to play with my brain. Which is why I’ve decided that the month of July is going to be all about the present, and staying in the present, no matter how awkward, odd, confusing, or possibly boring it may be.
I know I’m not alone in my struggle to stay present. Right here. Right now. Not about current events or wacky weather, but rather exploring who we are and what we are doing, right now, in the present.
Typically, for me, during any given “right now” my brain is tuned into several different channels. One could be listening to music or a podcast, another channel is tuned in to whatever task I’m performing, while yet more frequencies signal what I could be doing, have done, and may do (this includes cringey things I’ve said or done, things I should’ve said or done, and things I want to say or do but most likely never will). Other channels popping in include texts messages, emails, google searches, and any other external sources.
This inventory alone is exhausting.
But also provides some clarity about why I feel like I’m always doing but rarely achieving.
My current “right now” is sitting in my trailer on a bed with no sheets, my little nephew curled up beside me watching educational shark videos to calm down after a busy day. I’m working hard to keep my focus on writing something cohesive--so both you and I comprehend this missive--while tuning out the video sound, but not the tiny human.
I’m trying to keep all of these other thoughts aside, just for this short span of time, but they’re barging their way in: when will I get the sheets on the bed, how much of a pain it is to make a trailer bed with only one half of one side open, when will I get a chance to take a shower before picking hubby up at the train station, how much I have to tell my husband after two weeks apart, my mom inside the house (I’m parked in my sister’s yard) who is being transformed by Alzheimer’s and vascular dementia, how I feel about her new personality, do my mom and sister need help making dinner, will mom slip up and mention my sister’s upcoming surprise party to her, how is this surprise going to roll out, how will I get my parents to the surprise party while keeping my sister away, will rain keep guests away, how fucked are we with climate change, I think I’m hungry should I have a snack before dinner, it’s raining so hard, why is my computer acting weird, is it because I used an off brand charger, what to do with all of this stuff in my parent’s house, I forgot to text my mom’s cousin about the surprise shower, will a surprise shower shock my sister in labor, I’ve been away from my home in Savannah for so long, I have so many things to do when I get back how am I going to get them all done, I own too much stuff, I need to throw it away, what do I do with it so it doesn’t clog up landfills, where are those necklaces I borrowed from my mother, am I destined to suffer from the same neurological diseases as my mother, did I miss a freelance opportunity by not responding to an email, I need to write my congressperson, I should text my sister a picture of her son snuggled up under a kaleidoscope of blankets…
This is just dipping a little toe in the swirling maelstrom of all of the electrical impulses firing around my three-pound meat lump. You have your own very different, but very similar, thought storm detonating inside your brain—although I suspect you’re also thinking about snacks.
I’m reading and researching a lot about being present and trying to apply it to my life as much as possible. It’s a discipline that requires constant attention.
Or is it an attention that requires constant discipline?
And muscles, all sorts of mental muscles I didn’t know I had or how to use. It’s like watching an acrobat twist and turn her body inside out while wondering how to even access those muscle groups inside my own body to begin communicating with them.
Like pretty much overcoming anything, the first step is awareness. I’m aiming to be aware of what I’m aware of. What are my thoughts while I’m playing with niece or cooking with my mother? How often do I pause my writing to check email or respond to a notification on my phone? What am I hoping to find?
Join me on this journey. It requires no acrobatics or crazy flexibility. For now, we’re just going to notice what we’re doing with our brains while we’re doing anything else. How often do we go on autopilot or cruise control during our day to day?
As part of my month’s daily practice, I’ll be making little drawings of conversations I’ve had with my mom about food. As often as possible, they’ll be posted to my Instagram account @rubistudios.
In the meantime, I thank the little human curled up beside me for helping me get my work done. He reaches for my hand and, I’m not making this up, says “I really needed a little peace and quiet.”
I feel ya, little buddy, I really do.