Living in the now

Not an easy thing to do. The now is so fleeting; if you don't make an effort to be in the moment, that moment is lost forever. Yes, it may still be a memory, but you wasted what could have been a moment of joy, by just not being there and soaking it in. You dismissed it by wishing for something that couldn't be, at least not in that moment.

An example of what I mean is when I look at photos of my three children, all now in middle age, and I regret not savoring each second of their lives more, when they were growing up—as babies, toddlers, children, teenagers and young adults. And I'm not saying I didn't enjoy them. I did, and I do. But, like all human beings, parents included, the demands of day-to-day life invaded my space and distracted me.

Why am I now, once again, dwelling on this mistake of constantly allowing the current moment to pass without fully enjoying it? 

Recently, on a late January evening, I was sitting on our dock, my fishing line in the lake, watching the reflection of the warm sun setting in the mirror of water and wishing I were back home in Ireland. Suddenly, like a slap to the back of my head, I had a picture of exactly what I would be doing at that moment, were I back in Ireland. I saw myself sitting at a window, staring out at the cold dark rain as it beat against the glass, wishing for summer, still another five months away, and no guarantee it would be much warmer or less rainy. Meanwhile, the multicolored sunset slipped behind the hill and the still warm air reminded me I'd lost the pleasure of that moment, wishing for something that couldn't be.

Not a fire - a real sunset

Well, yes, of course it could be, just not in that moment. I've always believed nothing is impossible, it's just everything comes with a price and are you prepared to accept that price or not? And I'm not talking about financial cost; that can always be overcome. I know, because I came to America with nothing but debt, which I did eventually repay. Right now, I'm not prepared to make that decision; currently the emotional cost is too high, though sometimes, on bad days, given the horrible things happening in, and to, this country, I come very close.

So, for now, I work hard to stay living in the now, appreciate the warm Texas winter, the view of the lake outside my window as I sit at my desk and write. The herds of deer roaming along the shore. The squirrels and birds perched in the tree at the corner of the patio, or strutting around the dock. And of course, the beautiful sunsets reflected in the still water while we fish. But at night, as I drop off to sleep, I allow myself to dream about being back home in Ireland.