We were finally here. It’d been a stressful week. We’d gotten in an argument last night. We left early that morning and drove for hours down logging roads, scratching up the car, searching for the perfect spot to camp. Even when we found our spot, it took a lot of work to get there. Half a mile’s walk from the car in the hot sun, then we had to traverse down a rocky hill with what felt like way too many things.
But we were finally here, looking out over the Cascade mountains and a tiny sliver of Detroit Lake. Our hammocks were hung in the shade of old Douglas Firs. Our four-month-old Aurora slept in one of them behind us. We had two chairs set up, and we sipped on wine as we took in the view.
I felt at peace and grateful. When I start to feel that way, I can’t help comparing it to how I feel at other times, when I’m trapped in a hot house in a city I can’t truly explore during the pandemic. It’s so easy to just watch Netflix, tune out, go through the motions, and let time pass me by. But when I’m camping, I’m forced to relax and enjoy my surroundings. I’m put in a place that’s completely foreign to my everyday life — wind moving softly through the branches, mosquitoes squealing in my ears, and nothing to do but spend time in nature with my loved ones.
We started talking about being in being present, and what it truly means. It often seems like a cliche or a lofty idea that isn’t truly attainable day by day. There are many things that prevent us from paying attention to what’s happening right now instead of thinking ahead, thinking back, or being unhappy with the now. I think a lot of it comes down to intention and what we’re seeking, either consciously or unconsciously.
What are we truly trying to get out of a moment? What are we seeking moment by moment?
Personally, I often don’t know what I’m seeking; I just go on auto-pilot. Feed the baby, clean the house, do laundry, log a few remote hours for work, send an update to the family group chat, watch a couple episodes of something. When I truly pause and think about what I want, I often have a vast ocean of things in front of me, and I can’t choose. I really have to hone in, listen to my intuition, and then I can be more intentional with each choice.
This may mean I’m envisioning what I want for the future and I can take thoughtful steps towards that reality. Sometimes this is just small things. For example, if I want to be able to use the third bedroom as an office, I have to rearrange things and sort through the pile of books that ended up on the desk.
Other times, it is much more powerful for me to ask what I want right now. Instead of getting caught up in what’s going to happen this weekend or lofty plans for the house or planning my next vacation, I look at my situation and ask what I want out of it.
I remember when I first did acid, I tripped all night with a few of my sisters and other loved ones, and it was a revelation that I could do whatever I wanted to. I could stay in one room and melt into the air mattress while the blue walls rippled around me. I could dance in the living room and revel in the feel of my body. I could stare at myself in the mirror and marvel at how weird I looked. I had absolutely no restrictions; I was completely safe to follow my heart.
This may not be news to many people, but my days are full of indecision and self-consciousness. I try to carry this feeling of freedom around with me, but it can slip away so easily. Weekends like this one were a strong reminder that I can lead myself wherever I want to go.
This is a form of being present that can really change one’s life, if you let it.
Instead of thinking about the future, think about now and ask what you want, answer authentically, and then go for it.
Of course, sometimes we can’t get what we want. Sometimes our heart is calling us somewhere that’s impossible to visit right then. Sometimes things are just out of our control, and we have to learn to let go.
Having a baby during the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, about a week before Oregon started sheltering in place, has been a true testament of this. My dreams of sharing our newborn baby with our families and friends were severely stunted, if not altogether shattered in some cases. Certain family members who live out of state still haven’t met her, and many have yet to hold her.
No matter how much I want to enjoy the summer in a new city I haven’t fully explored, I can’t. My body is not truly my own while I’m breastfeeding. Even simple tasks like making dinner are hard to do, especially if I’m trying to do it at the same time Aurora is hungry or ready for a nap or simply bored.
Sometimes being present is more about accepting the present for what it is, without judgment.
“It seems to me that everything that exists is good—death as well as life, sin as well as holiness, wisdom as well as folly. Everything is necessary, everything needs only my agreement, my assent, my loving understanding; then all is well with me and nothing can harm me.”
Herman Hesse, Siddhartha
If you’re unhappy and you can’t change the present, for whatever reason, it’s time to change your mindset. I know that’s much easier said than done, but with practice, it becomes more of a reality.
Practice accepting the present moment but focusing on it instead of ignoring it or thinking about what you’d like instead. Return to your breath and pay attention to your senses. Watch what’s happening around you. Listen to people and give them your full attention. These are ways you can step outside of your thoughts and your opinions about what’s happening to you.
Another way you could practice accepting the present is through journaling. I find journaling to be a grounding process; it asks me to write down my emotions of the moment and embrace them.
Accept — then act. Whatever the present moment contains, accept it as if you had chosen it. Always work with it, not against it. Make it your friend and ally, not your enemy. This will miraculously transform your whole life
Eckhart Tolle, The Power of Now
That evening, Ryan and I had this great conversation about presence and mindfulness and not getting caught up in the anxieties of the moment. Of course, the next day, I had an opportunity to put it all into practice. I slept in a hammock with Aurora and had really overestimated how cold it would be, so I sweated all night. I woke up exhausted, sore, and itching from mosquito bites.
Ryan made an amazing breakfast, but for some reason, I felt nauseous and light-headed. I knew we had to pack everything up and get back home soon, so I kept thinking ahead. I had to continually remind myself to be in the moment and enjoy it. I had to surrender to the discomfort and pain in my body and accept it. It goes to show that it’s all a process. Just because we may know the truth that will give us freedom, it’s easy to get caught up in the lies again. We take it day by day, moment by moment.