I’ve been living in the future…lately, that is. I keep thinking about things that are off in the distance-planning, planning, planning. I recently heard Bhagavan Das say, “we are so busy planning that the only time we stop planning is when we die…”. Wow…that really struck me.
I’ve been thinking about things that haven’t yet happened and in the midst of it all I’ve come to notice one thing. That I’m missing what’s happening in the present moment. I’ve been so busy thinking about the next workshop, our upcoming tennis tournament, retreats in April and August, and in a more sobering tone, about death.
There…I said it. The big “D” word. Death is not a topic that people in our culture care to talk about. It’s a subject that makes most of us uncomfortable. We hear about it on a daily basis, but it seems as though we’re able to keep it at a comfortable distance away from ourselves, with a perspective that it’s something happening outside of our own lives, until we are confronted directly by it.
Our eldest dog, Yindi, is almost 14 1/2 years old and if you know anything about golden retrievers, she’s an old dog. Of late, she’s been struggling with having an appetite, her energy is low and at times she’s seemed indifferent to things that normally set her off, like a doorbell or phone ringing. My husband and I have been sitting on the precipice of “what’s next” for our beloved girl. “Is it her time?”. It’s a difficult place to be when you see your pet at the precipice of transitioning.
Thankfully, we had someone who deals with animals in transition give us a huge reminder…she’s still here. She’s still present. Focus on her life and all the joy you’ve received rather than on an impending death.
It’s inevitable…death (and taxes), right? We know it’s going to happen to all of us at some point along our journey. And when we wear the mantle of always looking to the future, of planning ad nauseum, we can often forget the beauty of what is present. Take this moment to experience exactly where you are, fully present in this time of your life.
In this moment.
In this breath.
In this moment, Yindi is sleeping comfortably at my feet. She has inspired me ever since she was an 8-week old adorable puppy and continues to do so, including today as I sit down to write. She’s here and so am I. I will stop planning just for a few seconds and I will breathe (and reach down to pat her head) in this moment.
