Where you are supposed to be.  So then, Be.  Here.  Now.

I have heard this little gem of wisdom a lot lately.  From friends, acquaintances, and even in the music I’ve been listening to.  And, while I completely understand the message behind this, it is almost impossible for me to let go of my anticipation of what I’m supposed to be doing next and just “live in the now,” as they say.  It’s not as if I necessarily want to speed through life always preparing for the future – that just means you are jetting your way to old age and I’m certainly not up for that. But I do tend to want to focus on the next moment and how to get there in one piece and in short order, rather than appreciating what’s right in front of me.  I know that this is certainly not uncommon.   I have spoken to many people who like me just can’t sit still for very long and certainly can’t do something like say, meditate.  I hate to be gender specific but they are often women and typically multi-taskers.  Big surprise there……

On the other hand, I know that there are some people who can be very “zen-like” in their approach to life.  No matter the size of the wrench that happens to get thrown in their way, they gracefully leap over it and keep right on going – without panic or fear.  They consider the wrench to be a temporary circumstance one that will pass and some even relish this moment.  They approach it from a place of gratitude, close their eyes and feel the import or significance of it.  Then move on.  These people take something positive from every single moment no matter the doom that might be associated with it.

I so admire these people and wish I could be more like them.  But the truth is it just isn’t in me, not 100% anyway.  That is not to say that I have never felt that kind of personal harmony. There are rare times when I can sit with myself and feel completely tranquil, knowing that I am in the exact right space. Many years ago, probably when I was a young adult, I coined such an instance “the perfect moment”.  Truthfully, they occur most often when I am at the beach.  The ocean holds something very powerful for me – it always has.  So, it makes sense that this is where I would feel the most peace and serenity.  Still.  Zen-like as a rule?  Nope.  Not in my genetic makeup.

For years – and I mean YEARS – I have tried to figure out why this is so difficult for me.  Not being able to accept the moment you are in and just be there can be very frustrating.  Some who know me might say that my inability to stay in the moment arises from anxiety.

Not THAT again . . . . .  Will we ever exhaust that excuse?

As tired of this explanation as I am, I admit that people with anxiety typically like to keep running toward something more comfortable.  Something safer.   Some Kitchen Table followers know that I have written about this before.  Being still can be very scary for those with anxiety.  I wholeheartedly agree with this reasoning – to a certain extent.  But what about the moments that are truly good.  Even those are sometimes hard to sit with.

Recently I think I might have discovered the reason.  And oddly, it came to me through the words of a song.  The song is “Have You Forgotten” by the Red House Painters.  You can hear it here:   Have You Forgotten.  It’s a beautiful song – the underlying texture of it is just a bonus.  The lyrics most significant in this context are, “have you forgotten how to love yourself“.   I think that everyone is born with an innate love of who they are.  It is our environment and experience that can dampen this and cause us to doubt our value to the world.  The simple question “have you forgotten how to love yourself” really clicked when I first heard it and certainly resonated when I thought about my inability to “be. here. now.”.

For me, I think the elemental belief that I am never quite good enough is at the root of it.  It’s hard to love who you are if you never really feel adequate.  To put it more accurately, it is hard to be with yourself in almost any space when you don’t think that you are measuring up to a certain self-imposed standard.  Better to start running somewhere else.  Somewhere you won’t have to see who you really are or be faced with your own . . . . . well, face.  Of course, this is completely counterproductive for someone who claims to want to live an authentic life.  I am totally aware of all this and am trying to clear out the muck that undermines my ability to be more “zen” and sit with myself, right where I am.  I’ll admit that it’s not an easy or quick process.  Particularly when you have lived your entire life shrouded in this mask of self-doubt.

But as they say, acknowledging an idiosyncrasy is the first step to ridding yourself of it, if that is, it doesn’t serve you anymore.  So, with any luck and some tough self-examination, I’m hoping that one day I will be able to sit with myself and “be. here. now.” more often than not.  And maybe someday you will even see me doing this:

and not this: