Thing to thing, meeting to meeting, gathering to gathering, state to state, bed to bed, room to room, floor to floor, driving, walking, dancing, stretching, preparing, feasting, digesting, relaxing.. this moment, whatever it is, won't be for always, it can't, that's not how being alive is.
I've been going from moment to moment, just like you. I've been sinking in, glossing over, expanding my lungs, holding it all in, attempting to mask and hide, letting it all out, sweeping it under, tucking it to the side, piling it up. I've been taking that 'it' that is this moment and getting acquainted with it in a multitude of ways, just like you. Some of the ways of getting acquainted feel good, some feel bad, some I can't remember the associated sensations. Some feel habitual, some feel spontaneous, some feel relearned. I choose some and some, it feels like they choose me.
These ways I engage with this moment, sometimes I wonder if the ways of engagement with the present moment are actually more important than the present moment itself. More important in the sense that they may inform and influence more threads and layers of life, and impact me more than the present moment itself. But maybe I'll try to not almost immediately make this wondering into a comparison of 'engagement' > 'moment'. Gosh, can the mind just give me what I want it to give me and not the judgment, comparison, and scarcity tactics? No, it's probably going to very likely give it all to me and then I need to comb through the all of it and get choosey about what I let continue onward, inward, outward.
I've been immersed in a huge variety of experiences lately. In one stretch, I may find myself in a virtual room experiencing interspecies communication and care, a gathering of people from distinct industries supporting one another with professional development, staring deep into the depths of data in cell after cell of spreadsheets and spreadsheets, inching through bright red traffic with a slowly leaking tire surrounded by people and their machines and their feelings about their days, giving a sandwich to a person who might want it, holding bright devices in my hands, slicing avocados and pulling apart salty salmon, laughing over the meal, lying in the sun and breeze, being washed by hot and cold water. You too, you too, you too have been in some of these and many different of these experiences. It's a lot. Isn't it a lot? And none of them are for always. Even though some of them have that sense about them, that forever quality. Whether a negative or positive forever, that "this will be a l w a y s" is the radio station I'm tuned to in those moments, that scent of forever overwhelming the room.
But it's come to my attention, smacking me in the forehead, slapping me across the face, warming my whole chest, seeping in, through, and out my pores, that given that absolutely none of these will be for always, how do I actually desire to engage with this not-always-not-forever-moment?
Gathering up that knowledge and wisdom close to my chest that this moment won't be here for always, do I want to contain all my breath up in my neck? do I want to headache my way through it? do i want to grip and pull at the leash of the dog? do i want to lean against the trunk of the tree and stretch my neck around the nook seemingly made for me? do i want to stretch my way into the morning moments? do i want to hunch and groan? do i want to moan and cry? moans of sorrow, cries of joy? do i want to feel trapped and stuck in the muck of the dark night? do i want to click 'pay'? do i want to tap that 'submit'? no bad, good, or right, wrong here. what is here? it's agency, choice, preference, capacity. what is here is love, desire, energy, power.
a brother friend calls me just now. this is the song that's playing on this album that another sweet friend shared with me earlier. a beloved's text pops up on the screen. this moment, this moment of sitting in the kitchen at this house tended to by another beloved, my feet up with balm all over the soles. this moment, this moment. oh, that tight jaw, that shoulder smush, how do i want to be with this moment? scrunch my eyebrows as i read someone else's words? how do i want to be with this not-always-moment? i want to breathe, i want to smile, i want to lift my chin and dance my neck, i want to love this person - this me person and this that person, i want to notice the rain outside. i want to sigh. i want to check in with what wants doing today. i want to feel my nervousness. i want to lean towards my excitement. i want to be clear with my words. i want to be complete with sitting in this chair. i want to give you a hug, if you want that too. I want to share this not-always-moment with you and share the awe that feels quite accessible in this now. i want you to know that the rain stopped and the sun's out now. how's that for a not-always-moment?
