Flaring Felicity

There are seasons when I find myself living everywhere except where I actually am or living in the present moment.

Sometimes, I’m trapped in the past—revisiting old relationships, decisions, conversations, and versions of myself.

Other times, I’m anxious about the future. I think about where I should be, what I should accomplish next, who will be beside me, and whether the things I hope and pray for will happen.

But there are also seasons when neither yesterday nor tomorrow needs my attention.

The only thing that matters is living today.

Slowing Down During Recovery

I’m writing this as I approach my third week of recovery from surgery.

I thought healing would be faster.

However, I’m learning that recovery does not follow one fixed timeline. Cleveland Clinic notes that recovery time can vary depending on the procedure and that some people simply need more time than others.

As the days pass, I’m starting to get impatient. My mind is already thinking about the things I want to do and the places I want to go, while my body continues to remind me to slow down.

Recovery has made my world smaller for a while.

Surprisingly, that smaller world has given me more things to notice.

One practice I recently started enjoying is looking at the plants in my mom’s garden.

I check our white lilies and notice when new flowers have opened since the day before. Sometimes, I see a butterfly land on one of them and drink its nectar.

These are ordinary things I probably would not have paid much attention to when I was busy rushing somewhere.

Now, I find myself looking forward to them.

Paying Attention to Who Is Here

Slowing down has also made me more aware of the people who are present in my life.

Not the people I imagine being here.

Not the people I wish would message or visit.

But the people who actually do.

During recovery, I received an unexpected visit from a friend. I also received a surprise bouquet from my office that made an ordinary day feel special.

These moments have taught me something about living in the present moment: The present is the only part of life I can actually witness.

I can remember the past, but I cannot experience it again.

I can imagine the future, but I cannot experience it yet.

Today is what I can see, touch, receive, and participate in.

This idea is also at the heart of mindfulness. The American Psychological Association describes mindfulness as paying attention to what is happening in the present moment, including our thoughts, feelings, and physical sensations.

Becoming a Witness to Your Own Life

Perhaps being present in life does not always mean doing more with the day. Sometimes, it simply means becoming a witness.

A peer-reviewed review available through the U.S. National Library of Medicine’s PubMed Central describes mindfulness as awareness of moment-to-moment experience with curiosity, openness, and acceptance.

There is actually something close to this idea in mindfulness research: paying attention to our moment-to-moment experiences with curiosity, openness, and acceptance.

Witness another person’s life.

Notice something someone created.

Receive the message that arrived today.

Appreciate the person who chose to spend part of their day with you.

Notice the little miracles that would have been easy to miss if your mind were somewhere else.

This is something my season of healing and recovery is teaching me: life does not stop being meaningful just because I am moving more slowly.

There is still something to witness.

Maybe This Is Becoming

I used to think becoming was always about moving forward.

Becoming stronger. Becoming more successful. Becoming healed. Becoming the person I imagined myself to be.

Now I wonder if becoming can also mean becoming more awake to the life I already have.

There will be a time to plan again.

There will be a time to move faster, build things, travel, pursue goals, and think about what comes next.

But perhaps there are seasons when slowing down in life is not falling behind.

It is an invitation to look more closely.

I cannot change yesterday, and I cannot guarantee tomorrow.

But I can witness today.

The lilies that bloomed.

The butterfly that came.

The person who remembered me.

The body that is still healing.

The life that continues to unfold even while I wait.

Maybe becoming does not always happen somewhere ahead of us.

Sometimes, becoming happens right here—when we finally learn to be present for the life that is already happening.