The problem with living in the moment is when the moment kind of…well, let’s just say some moments are better neighbourhoods than others.
Right now, mine is pestilent. As in, still flu-y. So in the spirit of beginner’s heart, I’ve been making a list of things the flu gives you (besides a virus, I mean). And number one is a new perspective.
When you’re sick for an extended period of time, and your day parses into awake/ asleep/ eating/ dull consciousness, it’s easy to just trudge from one moment to the next. But sometimes, either the Tylenol AM kicks in, or my brain remembers better days, and it’s like I’m an observer. Where life is slower, calmer, and more immediate. And I can catch moments like leaves floating.
Ache/ not-ache, of course. But also the kindness of others — tearing up because a nice person at work makes you a cup of tea (and no, I’m NOT contagious, or I wouldn’t go to work!). Or the joy of cool sheets when the Tylenol has worn off, and you wake up to go get another dose.
The round almost honeyed taste of yellow tea — milder than black or green, stronger than white.
Do I notice these things the same way when I’m not sick? No, although I try to live moment by moment. Still, there’s something about being sick that means everything is both duller — the aches & pains! — and clearer (the way moonlight pours through the window mid-night).
So here’s to working back in to my everyday life, moment by moment.