Right Now

I just spend a perfectly blissful few week with family, and then with friends who are like family. We spent long summer days exercising, swimming, and cooking beautiful meals together. Both laughter and somber conversation filled the house in equal measure, balancing our need for contemplation and release. We filled our bodies with sunshine and nutrients and our souls with each other. We took the time that was needed to savor the joy. This is why I love summer so much. It restores me from the depletion of the dark winter months that have past and prepares me for the ones ahead. This summer feels so much more poignant and precious, both because of the work it took to be here and the deprivation that we know is lying ahead. One day at the end of these blissful few weeks, I was floating in the pond and noticed that my bucket felt full. I stoped to soak in the gratitude, and I notice that I was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with the beautiful things that fill my life, Overwhelmed with the deprivation that book ended that beautiful moment, Overwhelmed with the harshness that seems to envelop us all, but some more than others. I was drowning in the overwhelm and my only way out was to reach for the now. Now is all I have to keep me a float. The feeling of the sun on my skin and the sound of the birds in my ears. Right now I have people and animals to love and who love me in return. Right now I am relaxed and full of joy even though a dark cloud emerges on the horizon. Right now I can close my eyes and memorize this feeling, imprinting it on my brain so I can access it on a day in the not so distant future when “right now” is not so easy to hold. I worked hard to fill my bucket this summer. I created moments I knew I needed and paused to appreciate the ones that came spontaneously, giving me something I didn’t even know I needed. I breathed in the love and memorized the feeling of the hugs, not knowing when I would be able to be embraced again. But what if my bucket is not full enough? What if those moments and memories aren’t enough to get me through the days and months ahead. I look back and think, “look how much I have navigated so far! Look at what I have done that I didn’t think I could do!” So why do I doubt? Because it is in our nature to question what we do not know, to doubt ourselves and others when we can’t see the path ahead. So what we have is now. Now I am typing these words, and loving my beings, and being loved. Now I am fighting for what I want the world to be and refusing to curl up into a ball and give up. Now I choose to take the next step. So my bucket must be full enough because it is what I have right now.