Musings About Change & Living in the Moment
“I wake up earlier in the morning and rise before dawn. I crack open the screen door to smell the earth begin to thaw, and watch the characteristics of the daylight change, the relationship of the sun to earth. Instead of reminiscing about the past, I’m more likely to think about the future and what lies ahead. I want to move, awaken my senses, feed my desires.” — from The Itchy Restlessness of Spring Fever —Linda Lenzke
Letting the fresh air in.
One of the side effects of the changing seasons is that I often muse about the past, become present in the moment, and look ahead to the future. Springtime especially is a time to look forward, a hopeful season of new beginnings. As I age, I’m also grateful that I’ve survived another winter, a season that poses challenges, not only to my spirit and well-being, but to my bones, my health, and my mobility.
From the introduction to my poetry chapbook, Seasons/Change:
Living in the Midwest in Wisconsin, our lives ebb and flow with the changing seasons. Sometimes winter is unrelenting and it’s a struggle just to get out the door for our day-to-day lives. We are restored in the spring when the changing weather brings us hope and quells the itchy restlessness of spring fever. Summer is our reward, a time for leisure and vacations. In the autumn, we reap the harvest of the land and prepare for the long, cold nights again, the cycles of change repeated.
What I’ve learned, the lessons from keeping and rereading journals, is that I’m a creature of habit. Though I allow my imagination to wander and travel places like a free spirit, I’m pretty earthbound and sensitive to the changing of the seasons, the length of daylight in a day, the heat of the sun on skin, the relationship of the stars and moon to our planet, the color of grass and leaves, the smell of the breeze as it changes from the smoky potpourri of autumn to the chilled neutrality of winter, followed by the musky odor of newly-turned earth and fragrant scent of flowers blooming in spring. And, finally, the conscious and unconscious cycles of life.
Past
As a reminiscence writer and a person in recovery, looking back is a daily habit. I often take my personal inventory as I review the preceding day before I move forward in the new day.
Reflect on the past and take a daily inventory to move forward.
What were my successes, my missteps, my amends to be made? Keeping the slate clean, enables me to remain sober and centered, and helps me live in the moment.
Social media now reminds us too of our memories in the Facebook feature, On This Day. I also journal and I often look back at preceding years and entries for the same day. It’s been a beneficial tool to see my progress, or lack of it, on particular issues or challenges. I see the repeating rituals that drive my life and how my habits serve or inhibit growth or serenity.
Memories of loved ones, both here and gone, shared experiences, both joyful and not, and accomplishments and failures, inform the present and help me chart a course for the future. They are the rearview mirror of where I’ve been, and by the process of understanding and making sense of them, create the roadmap to where I’m going.
Reflecting. Searching for the light in the shadows.
Present
Today promises to be a mild, unseasonably warm, spring day. It’s the kind of day that invites us to be in the moment, to go with the flow, and to be fully present. If we engage the capacities of our body, mind, and spirit, and allow our wonder, curiosity, and imaginations to guide us, we’ll fully experience the environment we live in, the activity in which we’re engaged, and the people who share in it with us.
Regrets and remorse without the ability to remedy a situation or make amends leaves us suspended in the past, in a kind of limbo. Worry, fear, and anxiety are also indicators that we are not in the moment, and if we’re unable to take action in real time, we’re simply projecting into the future and not fully present in the moment.
Children are great teachers as they model for us on how to live in the moment. An adult only needs to say, “We’ll do that another time, maybe tomorrow, after a while.” A child will inevitably ask, “Is it time now? The time is now, the moment is here, live it.
Future
Spring is a time of rebirth, new beginnings, a season reflected in symbols of fertility. Our religious holidays reflect the season. Spring is also the season of youth and adolescence, a time of learning and exploring, young love, and dreams for the future.
It is a time of reawakening, renewal, and restoration. In the Northern climate, many of us spend too much time indoors, too much time in the dark, and too much time cocooning or hibernating like bears. We now venture outdoors in the sunlight; we take in the beauty of nature and all its gifts. We are reborn.
The itchy restlessness of spring fever takes hold of me. I dream again. I dream bigger. I look ahead with optimism and hope. The future is bright again.
Let in the light.
Related Reading from Mixed Metaphors, Oh My!