Present.
I sit this morning in stillness, reading a soul book a soul friend gave me.
Present.
I sit this morning listening to the song of birds. One little fellow is having himself a good ol’ time: a solo act of twirps and tweets and toots among the branches. I practice mindful listening, acting as a conscious port of entry for guest-sounds that come and go.
I don’t attend to this mental door enough.
Just recently on the way to school, I asked Dave a question. Next thing I know he’s saying something vaguely in the background. And by background I mean the screen of my email and the work issues I’m already addressing mentally. I literally asked him a question yet did not wait long enough to hear the answer!
Absent as a wife.
Sometimes I will stare at a student while they talk, even nodding at appropriate moments, and then a minute later realize I have no idea what they have just said. Instead, my mind is on the treadmill of lesson plans and grading and emails and policy frustrations and colleague conversations and…
Absent as a teacher.
Sometimes, a coworker will be talking to me, and I will literally still be typing an email while thinking about a different email I need to send. I sacrifice presence for the sake of productivity.
Absent as a colleague.
More times than I’d like to admit I’ve found myself saying to a friend who is in the middle of a story: “Oh yeah, I do remember you saying something about that.” Vaguely. But just as I didn’t fully attend to the first conversation, I will later only vaguely remember this one as well.
Absent as a friend.
While I was reflecting on this, I went through past pieces I’ve written about mindfulness. When I stumbled upon this one, I sunk under the choking weight of repetition. I literally wrote about the same. exact. thing. in 2014.
I’m even absent as a writer!
But, since mindfulness is a constant, kind returning, I do just that: return.
I take, and retake, attendance.
Present.
In this present moment, I am grateful.
I am grateful for vacation, a break from work, a time when I don’t need consistent attention to my phone (though, do I ever, really?).
I am grateful for our upcoming 6-night silent meditation retreat, a chance to reset.
I am grateful for summer, a time to reconnect and refuel.
Present.