Extreme Present Moments
It feels like the only time I’m in the present moment is during extremely painful or happy events. I tend to linger in the moments of sadness, or cling to the moments of happiness. I’ve written about this before, but it seems to be a habit that’s easier to write about than to break.
The present moment is tricky. Our brains want to go towards what is extremely powerful – love, sex, drugs, gambling and anything that makes us feel life deeply. We see it in movies when a writer is down on his luck, drinking himself until he throws up his soul, then suddenly he gets the one line that completes his story and saves his life and career. We also revere it in sports, when one man surpasses all expectations and wins the championship. He’s lifted into ecstasy and the only thing holding him back is his skin. It’s an amazing sight to watch on TV and I can’t even imagine what it feels like to be that elated. Then they age and retire. Their addiction to elation still needs sustenance. Many athletes then turn to other means to reach a level of excitement that they are used to, causing great men to crash into their own insecurities.
When I cut my finger, I’m there feeling the pain, watching the blood dribble out. When I struggle to enjoy a day at work, I feel each moment as it slowly passes by. The struggle in life is an extreme part of our feelings. I hate to admit it, but I’m addicted to a sour mood. It makes life feel so real.
Then there are days that I’ll write a great poem, article or pages to my novel and I’ll be walking with joy. There are also times that I’ll be on a stroll with my wife, feeling healthy and giddy, talking a mile a minute about my new idea or just how much fun we had the night before. The happiness feels like a sprinkle of bliss as if I’m watching my life from above with angel wings keeping me afloat.
My days are usually normal and simple, which don’t offer as much intensity, but that’s good too. It’s just that I get caught up in wanting to feel a certain way. Needing my life to be anchored to the pain or floating above the struggle. I forget to see the beauty in the normal, the fun in the mundane. I’m not talking about accepting the comfortable. I’m talking about appreciating the normal.
Instead of:
- Turning on the TV
- Playing video games
- Talking to a friend on the phone
- Surfing the Internet
Try sitting down in a quiet place and feeling the relaxed normal you. What is happening inside your mind?
- Does it desire stimulation?
- Is it addicted to the feelings?
- Does it want to fall asleep?
- Is it grasping for safety?
Let yourself relax in this moment without the need for stimulation. Let the thoughts settle into calmness, appreciating the simple feeling of where you are.
