WHEN I SAY I LIVE IN THE MOMENT IT’S NOT A BRAG
Time makes no sense anymore. Thankfully, I am at home in the present. I think of each moment as a nautical swell, and I surf from one to the next, and seldom wipe out. Some moments are longer than others, some steeper. I am startled when I realize my friend Chuck died in 2022. I think of it as both yesterday, and forever ago. But I can carry on a reasonable conversation, make a birthday cake, get to the bathroom, feed the dogs. I can make things out of clay. If I keep my wits about me I can handle whatever shows up in the present, but mention something interesting that happened yesterday and it’s a different story. My daughter referred to a conversation we had had the day before, and I drew a blank. I am used to things slipping my mind, but not quite so quickly. She tried to comfort me, talking about how stress affects everything, and how long I’ve lived, how much to remember already, and she calmed me down. I am beginning to accept that each day is a day unto itself, there’s no guarantee how much of Friday will survive the trip into Saturday. So the present is all I’ve got, or at least all I’m certain of, but it seems a fitting place for an eighty-two year old woman. Luckily, each moment holds a world. If you don’t believe me, go ahead. Check it out.The water is fine. Catch the next one.
Truly, truly. I relate to some of the forgetting that happens from one day to the next. Not sure if it's dissociation, aging, the effects of stress, or maybe the relative unimportance of certain info that tries to enter this busy brain of mine. Though disorienting at times, and a little upsetting at other times, I'm mostly trying to live in the present. It's the only place that's actually real. I'm all for that. And the memories flow in and then go back to the sea. All good. Love you, Abby. Thank you for all the things you share with us so frankly. xoxo
How do you do it? Each piece equals/surpasses each piece before and keeps surprising, too.